


Only A Matter of Time

by daimonas



Series: Forget Me Not [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Angst, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Memory Loss, Modern Era, Romance, all going to be very minor parts in this series, also i'll go ahead and warn you that there are some hard to read scenes in this, anyway now to the actual tags, but i'm not tagging them because i don't want people that ship that ship to come looking here for it, it's rated m for later chapters, so please be advised, there's going to be more relationships than just fenris and hawke, when fenris and hawke start opening up to each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8252489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daimonas/pseuds/daimonas
Summary: Hawke fell in love with a boy, once. A boy named Leto. She thought she had put all memories of Leto behind her, until one night she has a dream of him, and later that day she runs into a man that bears a striking resemblance to her lost love. Only, this man's name is Fenris, and he has no memory of her. If he has no idea who she is, it can't be Leto, can it? It's only a matter of time before she finds out.





	1. A Dream Within a Dream

_The sun is shining, bright and warm, through the sheer-curtained window of the cottage. A gentle breeze blows through the cracked pane, sending chills down Hawke's spine. She shivers and moves closer to the body next to her. An arm drapes easily around her shoulders, fingertips dance lightly across her bare skin._

_"Do you really have to go?" she asks softly, ignoring the pang in her chest when she asks the question._

_A soft hum rises in the chest of her lover and suddenly she's being shifted so she has to look into his eyes. Her silver eyes meet eyes as green as a summer meadow. His eyes are soft, inviting, warm -- but hesitant, now. He speaks, "You know I would never leave you if I had a choice."_

_Hawke feels tears well in her eyes and she lays her head back on his chest. He plays with her hair absent-mindedly. She wishes she could freeze time, here. In this cottage, where nothing could ever hurt them. She would be safe in his arms. They could raise a family, eventually. Without thinking, she says, "I love you."_

_His hand pauses , if only for an instant. When he continues, he speaks, and Hawke can hear the smile clearly in his voice. "I love you too, Luna Hawke. From this day, until my last day."_

_"Leto..."_

Hawke's eyes open slowly. She squints in the morning light and lifts a hand to her face to shield her eyes. When she touches her cheek, she feels wetness. She sighs and sits up, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks.

A woman's voice comes from across the room, grating on Hawke's already-irritable nerves, "Are you seriously waking up crying?"

"Fuck off, Petrice," Hawke says, not even offering her devil of a roommate a glance. Hawke didn't know what kind of bullshit match-making roommate system Kirkwall's Art Institute had, but all she knew was that it was garbage. She had been stuck with the same sour-assed roommate every year since joining the school. Petrice had fooled Hawke at first, playing the oh-so-civil roommate. It took Hawke calling her out once on her fake bullshit for Petrice to show her true colors. By the time Hawke had requested a transfer, she was told it was too late in the year to do so. Then, somehow, she kept getting stuck with her, with some trash excuse of why she couldn't change roommates.

Petrice snorts from across the room and tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder.  Hawke watches as she finishes applying her makeup and asks, "You plan on finishing any time soon? I'd like to shower before class."

"Oh," Petrice says, turning a mock-shocked expression to Hawke. "I didn't know you cared about your personal hygiene. By all means, please shower. I can smell you from over here."

Hawke rolls her eyes and with a borderline-monumental effort, doesn't retort back. She swings her legs over the side of the bed and her feet land on soft carpet. She stands and pads over to her closet, grabbing a pair of dark jeans, a black tank top, and a grey cardigan. She walks past Petrice, fights the urge to shove her into the mirror she's leaning into, and enters the bathroom - which, in Hawke's opinion, is the only redeemable quality of this Maker-forsaken school. When they had originally built the school, they didn't have the permits to build dorm buildings, so they bought an old hotel and remodeled the rooms into dorm rooms. Each room housed up to two students, and those two students had their own bathroom. Hawke had been dreading the possibility of community bathrooms and was ecstatic when she had learned otherwise. If only she could get rid of her roommate.

Hawke shuts the door to the bathroom and takes a moment to shift through her thoughts. She was shaken from her dream of Leto. She hadn't dreamt about him in.. months, if she was being honest. She thought the pain of his departure had all but disappeared. Apparently not. With a sigh, Hawke sets her clothes on the lid of the toilet and unlocks her phone to put on music, afraid to be alone with her thoughts. She chooses an album she knows the words to, can sing along to so that she doesn't think.

When the song begins, Hawke sets her phone on top of her clothes and sets to starting her shower. She gets the water started, undresses and steps inside, all the while humming along to the music. After she closes the curtain, she closes her eyes, tilts her head back into the water, and tries to forget her dream. Only then is it that she starts listening to the music, to the particular song that she chose. By now, it's in its second verse.

_"The sun is going down and I can see it in your eyes it's been a long day. I promise I'll be here for you, until you wake tomorrow, it's a new day. Maybe it's just time for you to tell me all the secrets you've been hiding. 'Cause I can see it in your eyes, you've waited so long for the right thing."_

Hawke's eyes open slowly, and the pang she felt in her dream becomes a reality. She listens to the words of the song, the melody, and she feels like a void begins to open in her chest. _Of course_ the song she chose was the very one that would remind her of her dream.. Of him. She remembers the moment vividly.

\---

Hawke is standing in her bedroom at home, in front of an easel. She has paint on her fingers, in her hair, on her face. She had been painting all day, trying to take her mind off the argument her and Carver had gotten into that morning before he left for his girlfriend's house. It had been stupid, but Hawke hadn't been able to control her temper and blew it way out of proportion.

Suddenly, there's a tap on her window. She looks up, curious, and approaches the window cautiously. When she looks down, she feels her face break into a smile for the first time that day. Leto is standing there, looking up at her - black hair falling across his face, green eyes shining in the sun. She holds her finger up to indicate that she'll be down in a minute, then goes to greet him.

"Hey," he says in greeting, his voice unusually stoic.

"Everything alright?" Hawke asks, taking his hand in hers instinctively.

"Can we walk?" he asks, not meeting her gaze.

"Of course," Hawke says, unsure now. He's acting odd, and she's afraid of what he has to tell her.

They walk in silence, hand in hand, for what seems like an eternity. He leads her to the creek right outside of her family's cottage. He lets go of her hand, walks forward, sits on the bank of the water. Hawke follows and sits next to him. He's silent as he watches the water, his eyes scanning back and forth quickly, as if he's looking for the answer to an unasked question. Hawke watches him, waiting patiently for him to speak. Finally, he does, "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Hawke freezes, her eyes widening for a moment in shock. She looks away and watches the water with him. She hears him open his mouth to speak again and interrupts him. "I don't need to know why," she says. She had known it would eventually come to this. They had never officially been a "couple," really. Just two people that hung out and enjoyed each other's presence and, on occasion, kissed; but they both knew that there was something more there. So as badly as this felt like a break up, Hawke knew it wasn't. He was choosing to walk away before it turned into something more. Hawke sighs, and swallowing the pain welling in her chest, takes her iPod from her pocket. She unravels the headphones, sticks one in her ear and offers him the other. He looks at her, curiously, but takes the headphone and inserts it into his ear. She pushes shuffle and listens to the first song that begins to play. She almost wants to laugh at the irony of which song it is.

_"I can hear it in the wind, and when we are together, I can feel it. There's something in your smile that I cannot seem to find, but I just need it. Maybe it's just time for me to tell you all the stories I've been keeping. Call it love, but I can tell you that I don't know the meaning."_

Hawke hears Leto shift, and she glances at him. He's still refusing to meet her gaze. The second verse starts, and they both listen in silence. When the verse is over, Leto takes the headphone from his ear, and turns his eyes to hers. He says, softly, "There are so many things I wish I could tell you."

"I know," Hawke says.

He leans forward, rests his forehead against hers. She closes her eyes, listening to the gentle melody of the guitar in the song. They stay like this until the song is very nearly over. Finally, he whispers, "I have to go back to Tevinter at the end of next week. I didn't know how to tell you."

Hawke leans back, opens her eyes to gaze into his. His eyes are hesitant, fearful, but most of all, they're tired. Hawke says, "We can write to one another, can't we?"

Leto looks away, is quiet for a moment before answering. "I do not think that would be wise."

"Why?"

"There are people there that will find the letters. They will take what we have and destroy it. And if there's one thing in the world that I don't want to happen, it's that. Hawke--" he says, and pauses, turning his gaze to her finally. "I care about you. Immensely. And I don't want this to be ruined because of what I return home to."

Hawke feels her anger spike, and she says, "If you leave and never come back, then it's like it never happened at all. What's the point then?"

She regrets the words immediately. Hurt crosses Leto's expression and he looks away. Softly, he says, "I would rather it be like it never happened than have it be damaged beyond all repair."

Hawke reigns in her anger and looks away, down at the grass they're sitting on. She starts fidgeting with the grass, twirling it between her fingers and tearing it out of the ground. There's so much going on in her mind and she wants it to stop. She thinks of the pills she has at home, tucked safely in the bottom drawer of her dresser. She hasn't touched them in months, since the first time she met Leto at the start of spring. But, Maker, if she didn't want them now. She wanted to forget this conversation, forget it ever happened and just go back to how things were. Where Leto wouldn't be leaving, wouldn't be saying he wishes this - whatever it was - had never happened. She sighs, knowing that no amount of hoping will get her what she wants. She knows she has to accept what's happening. She leans her head on his shoulder and grabs his hand. He stiffens for a moment, but relaxes when she says, "Let's make the most of our last days together, then. Shall we?"

"I would like that."

\---

Hawke comes out of the memory feeling empty. How is it that someone she only knew for half a year had left such a lasting impact on her? When Leto left, he was true to his word. He left without even a goodbye, and never tried to contact her again.

Hawke starts to shower. She ignores her music now, ignores the empty feeling in her chest. When she's finished showering, she steps out and begins to dry off.  When she's about to start drying her hair, her phone chirps, indicating a text. She glances at it.

**From: Bethy, 8:24 AM  
** _Anders and Mer are meeting me at Dulci's for breakfast before class. Want to come?_

**To: Bethy, 8:25 AM  
** _Sure. I'm just getting out of the shower. I'll be there soon._

Hawke finishes drying herself and puts on the clothes she had chosen for the day. When she exits the bathroom, Petrice is gone for the day. Hawke lets out a sigh of relief, and sets to work on blow-drying her hair. It takes a good 20 minutes (damn her long hair straight to hell) and when she's finished, she puts on her black chucks, grabs her pack with her art supplies, and leaves for Dulci's.

Dulci's is a diner Anders introduced Hawke to during her freshman year of college. It was a small diner, tucked in an even smaller, unnoticed corner of the Hightown market. The only business it got was from college kids too poor to afford their own meals, considering Dulci De Launcet gave most of her regulars free meals. The woman believed whole-heartedly that people needed to eat, whether they had the money to or not.

When Hawke walks into the diner, Dulci greets her with a smile. "Good morning, sweet. Coffee?"

"Please," Hawke says, scanning her eyes across the diner to find her friends. They're sitting in their usual booth against the windows to the far side of the diner. Hawke goes to join them.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Anders taunts as Hawke approaches.

"Shove it, asswipe," Hawke grumbles.

"Oh, dear, someone must have woken on the wrong side of the bed," Merrill chimes, fluttering her hands together nervously. "Let's start this over? Good morning, Hawke. It's lovely to see you."

Hawke smiles at Merrill, then turns a hostile look to Anders, "See? That's how you greet someone."

Anders rolls his eyes, then tilts his head and says in a ridiculous, mocking tone, "Oh, Hawke, darling. What a lovely morning and how wonderful it is to see you. Are you feeling quite well? You look as if you've seen a ghost!"

Hawke groans, "On second thought, don't."

"That's what I thought," Anders says, his voice back to normal.

Dulci walks over with three mugs, two with nothing but hot water and the other with steaming, black coffee. She sets the mugs of water in front of Anders and Merrill, then hands them their teabags. She sets the coffee in front of Hawke and asks, "Are we expecting anyone else?"

"Bethany is going to be here soon," Merrill says. "She said she only wants a water."

Dulci nods and walks away to retrieve the order. Anders and Merrill set about making their tea. Anders says, "So for real, Hawke, is everything alright? I don't mean to pry, but you look awful."

Hawke narrows her eyes at him. "Thanks, but I'm fine. I just had an awful dream. Nothing new."

"What was the dream about?" Merrill asks as she takes a tentative sip of her tea.

Hawke shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee. It's strong, and bitter, and everything she needs at 8:45 in the morning. She says, "Remember how I told you guys about that one guy I was in a weird, sort-of relationship with the summer before my final year of high school?" When they both nod, she continues, "It was just a memory of him. It just..shook me, is all."

Merrill tilts her head and her eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. She asks, "It's been years, hasn't it? The memory of him still bothers you?"

Before Hawke can answer, Anders speaks up, "You wouldn't understand, Merrill. You may be older than us, but you've never...loved someone before. It doesn't matter how long you're together. If you really, truly love someone, you're going to feel their absence. Every day."

Anders turns his eyes up, then, and looks at Hawke. They hold each other's gaze for a moment. They had pursued each other, once. But Anders had just gotten out of a serious relationship and Hawke didn't want to step on anyone's toes. It didn't take her long to call it quits and, while Anders initially hated her for it, he had eventually realized that it was for the best. Now that they've been friends for so long, though, they both know that they would have never worked out. Hawke is grateful for that. Anders -  and all his irritable, stubborn, annoying ways - had always been a good friend to Hawke. She would hate to have it any different.

The bell hanging above the door chimes, indicating someone entering the diner. They all look over and see Bethany walk in. Her hair is ruffled, like she had gotten here in a hurry. She walks up to the booth and slides in next to Hawke. Hawke raises an eyebrow and says, "What's the hurry?"

"What do you mean?" Bethany asks, her tone defensive.

Curious now, Hawke leans back, examining her sister. Bethany's hair is a mess, her lipstick is smudged on her top lip, her bottom lip is slightly swollen. Hawke lets out a snort of laughter and Bethany's eyes widen in shock.

"What?" Bethany asks, sounding almost frantic as she brushes at her hair with her fingers. "Is my hair a mess?"

"And your lipstick," Hawke teases. "You were hooking up with someone? At 8 in the morning? Who the hell were you with?"

Bethany looks away, her eyes narrowed at Merrill. "You told her, didn't you?"

Merrill throws her hands up in mock surrender before saying, "I didn't say a word."

Bethany sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers and muttering, "Maker help me."

"A little too late to be praying to the Maker, don't you think?" Hawke teases. She nudges her sister with her elbow. "For real, though, who was it?"

Bethany sighs, shaking her head before answering, "Maybe I'll tell you one day, Hawke, but today is not that day."

"What?!" Hawke asks, a little too loudly. She lowers her voice before continuing, "Why not? Do I know the person or something?"

Bethany answers, "No," but her glance to Merrill, the barely perceptible head shake, tells her otherwise.

"Hmm," Hawke says, leaning back in the booth, her eyes narrowed suspiciously at Bethany. She decides to drop the subject, though, as Dulci brings the glass of water for Bethany. Dulci smiles at them and asks, "The usuals?"

Everyone nods in response and Dulci walks away to place the order. Hawke takes another sip of her coffee and sees Merrill scrunch her nose at her. Hawke looks down for a moment, seeing if she had dropped some and not known, then back at Merrill. She asks, "What was that look for?"

"I don't see how you drink that stuff, Hawke. It's absolutely dreadful." Merrill says, making a disgusted face.

Hawke smiles and takes another sip before answering. "It's not all that bad. You just have to doctor it up a bit if you don't like it black."

"What's the point in getting a drink if you have to add a ton of other flavors to it to make it drinkable?" Anders asks.

Hawke rolls her eyes. "Because, if you have a caffeine dependency like I do, tea is not going to cut it. I need copious amounts of caffeine to sustain me through the day."

"So you drink something... never mind." Anders says, shaking his head, confusion clearly in his features.

"I don't quite understand it, either," Bethany chimes in. She takes a sip of her water and settles into the booth.

"You all are just lucky you didn't get hooked on this shit at a young age, okay? I'm dependent. I can't help it."

"Do you even have a class this morning that you need to be caffeinated for?" Bethany asks.

"I do, in fact. It starts at 10."

"Oh, right. Your painting class, right? How has Professor Montilyet been?"

Hawke shrugs. "She's been alright. She keeps telling me that my works leave 'lasting impressions' on her... whatever that means. Hopefully that's a good thing."

Before anyone can respond, Anders mutters, "Shit, I need to get going. They're calling in practice early."

"When is the show?" Hawke asks, confused. They had just gotten through midterms and Anders' had been quite memorable. He had had to re-write a Shakespearean soliloquy into something modern-day and - in Anders' case - thoroughly embarrassing for everyone involved. He had passed, though, which was all that mattered.

"It's not for another three weeks, but apparently they're adding someone to the class."

"This late in the year?" Bethany asks.

Anders shrugs. "Apparently. We'll see how that goes," he says, skeptical.

Merrill slides out of the booth to let Anders out, then sits back down as he waves goodbye to the group. They watch him leave and as he exits, two men Hawke has never seen before enter the diner. One has shoulder-length brown hair, slicked back with a small amount of gel. His eyes, as far as Hawke can see, are bright blue - strikingly handsome. His skin is tan and his voice is thick with a Starkhaven accent. While he certainly is good-looking, Hawke finds her attention drawn to his companion.

His companion is short, for a man - maybe an inch or two taller than Hawke herself. His hair is white and just long enough that he has to keep it swept out of his eyes. His skin is tan and covered in the most intricate tattoos Hawke has ever seen. They start at his chin and travel down his neck. He's wearing a black sweater, the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, so Hawke can see that the tattoos continue down his arms, onto the backs of his hands. His frame is thin, but there's a strength with which he carries himself that almost... intimidates Hawke. He doesn't look very strong, but somehow Hawke knows he would fuck someone up in a fight.

And, despite that, he's the most handsome person Hawke has ever laid eyes on.

Hawke leans in to her sister and whispers, "Who are they?"

"I have no idea, but I would _love_ to find out."

Bethany and Merrill start to speak in hushed whispers about the two men. It's unusual for anyone in Kirkwall to not know one another. Hawke wonders, then, where these men had come from. Were they transfers? Why would the college let them in halfway through the semester? Or had they seriously just never seen one another before? Hawke doubts that. Someone with tattoos like that is bound to be noticed by _someone_. Especially since Hawke knows Varric. Anyone that knows Varric basically knows the entirety of Kirkwall.

After Dulci motions for the men to sit wherever they like, Merrill and Bethany start talking about their classes. Merrill has a recital next weekend, Bethany has to have an outfit at least started by this weekend. She hasn't even started the prints for the outfit yet, so she has no idea what she's going to do. The men take a seat not far from them, at a table across the aisle. The man covered in tattoos sits facing in Hawke's general direction. Something hits Hawke then - this man isn't a stranger. She _knows_ him from somewhere.. But where?

Dulci walks to the men's table with a steaming mug of coffee and a glass of water. She sets the mug down in front of the man with tattoos. He glances up, thanks her, and when he speaks, Hawke feels her heart skip a beat. _No.._

Hawke remembers, once, when she was a child, she was outside playing with Creature, the Hawke family's pet mabari. She was usually attentive while playing with him because he had a habit of playing a little too rough, otherwise. Hawke threw a stick, and the moment the stick left her hand, her mother called her from the house. She looked away, for the briefest of moments, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground - the wind knocked out of her entirely. Creature had run smack into her and, being as small as she was, he had completely knocked her over. It took her what felt like an eternity to get her breath back.

That's how Hawke feels in the next moment when the man turns his attention back to his companion. For the briefest of moments, their eyes meet. His eyes are green - as green as a summer meadow and etched forever in Hawke's memory. _Bam, a mabari slamming into a tiny Hawke, knocking the wind from her._

_Leto?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work title and song mentioned in this chapter is "Only A Matter of Time" by Whitney Wiatt and can be found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NpY1NGEyJls).
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, if you enjoyed the story. <3
> 
> Also, if you're not already, you should follow me on tumblr! URL: http://lunaahawke.tumblr.com/


	2. Dog Days Are Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, but it's definitely made up for in the next chapter. Hope you enjoy!!

Nothing in the world could have prepared Hawke for how she feels seeing Leto again. It's like the entire world freezes and starts moving in slow motion. The sounds around her muffle together and become indecipherable, her vision blurs into indistinguishable shapes and bright colors. She hears Bethany say something next to her, but can't understand what she's saying.

"I need to go," she hears herself say.

Bethany says something else, but Hawke still doesn't hear her. She moves out of Hawke's way and Hawke grabs her pack before sliding out of the booth. Without saying another word, she rushes as quickly as she can out of the diner. As soon as the door opens, the cold October air hits her like a slap in the face. Her vision clears, suddenly she's hearing again. She takes a deep breath, tries to calm her fast-beating heart. It doesn't work. Her hands are shaking and she's starting to find it hard to breathe.

 _Get it together, Hawke,_ she tells herself. She grabs the edges of her cardigan to wrap it tightly around herself. She takes deep breaths and counts; _1.. 2.. 3.. inhale.. 1.. 2.. 3.. exhale.._ It doesn't take long for her to calm her thoughts. She starts to think back on the man she saw in the coffee shop. Nothing about him had seemed like Leto, initially. Where Leto had been confident and sure of himself, the man had seemed timid and..damaged, almost. The white hair had seemed natural, the tattoos would be new. Everything about the man was different, except for his eyes. They had been the same color as Leto's, had had the same tired look to them that Leto's carried right before he had left for Tevinter again.

"He didn't even recognize you," Hawke says aloud. "There's no way it was him if he didn't even know who you were, idiot."

She shakes her head and glances at the time on her phone. There's still half an hour before she needs to be in class, but there's really nothing better for her to do, so she turns in the direction of the studio classrooms. There are other students milling about, none in too much of a rush to get to their classes. There are kids sitting in groups around picnic tables the school has supplied, talking or laughing together loudly. There's a couple to Hawke's right arguing about something Hawke has no clue about. A few students sit by themselves, finishing homework from the night before or just working on creating something new. As bad as a rep the university gets for its lackluster academics program, Hawke has to admit that it provides one of the most welcoming environments. There were kids from all over Thedas, each with their own unique art style. Hawke has never regretted her choice in school, and is reminded of it on mornings like this when there's an air of camaraderie in the school yard.

Hawke smiles to herself as she reaches the main building of the campus that houses the art and music studios.  She opens the door and heads upstairs to her classroom. She expects to have to sit outside of the classroom until the professor gets there, but when she crests the stairwell, she sees that the door to the classroom is already open. She enters and looks to her left to see Professor Montilyet sitting at her desk, typing away on her computer. Hawke clears her throat to signal that she's there and Professor Montilyet jumps, turning in her chair quickly to look at Hawke. She says, "Sweet Maker, Hawke, you scared me! You're here quite early."

Hawke shrugs and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "I went to eat breakfast with some friends and we finished earlier than we thought we would. There's nothing else for me to do, so I figured I would just come here."

"Well, that's actually very convenient. I was going to hold you after class to talk to you, but since you're here already, I might as well tell you now. Please," she says and holds her hand in front of her, signaling for Hawke to take the seat directly across from her. Hawke obeys and sits, shooting the professor a confused look. The professor smiles and folds her hands together on top of the desk before continuing, "Now, I don't wish for you to be angry with me, but I decided to take a chance with your last piece. I just loved it so much that I submitted it to a contest to win a spot in Antiva's Art Show next spring and, well -" she hesitates, then smiles, "- you've won! The President of Antiva's art program would like to cordially invite you to participate in Antiva's Art Show in May of next year! Isn't that exciting?"

Hawke looks at Professor Montilyet, too stunned to form words. Professor Montilyet looks concerned for a moment, causing Hawke to frantically shake her head and shout, "No! I mean - yes, of course that's very exciting. I just - wow.. Professor Montilyet, I don't know what to say. I'm honored. Really, I am."

Professor Montilyet claps her hands together. "Great! There's not many details yet on the show, but I assure you that I will work out your travel accommodations so that you have a safe, easy trip. Congratulations, Hawke! I'm so very excited for you."

Hawke smiles at her professor. As opposite as they are, Hawke definitely has a fondness for her Antivan professor. Hawke had somehow landed a class with her nearly every semester since coming to Kirkwall. In the beginning, Hawke had hated her - hated her need for diplomacy, hated her constant bubbly attitude. Eventually, though - and Hawke didn't quite know when - the professor had started to grow on her. Now, Hawke looks forward to every class she has with her. This semester it just so happens to be what Hawke specializes in - painting.

"Thank you, Professor Montilyet," Hawke says finally.

"My dear, it's no trouble. Congratulations again. Now, get to work. I hope to see your next project mostly finished by the end of today."

Hawke nods and stands, walking to her easel in the back corner of the class, closest to the window. She begins unloading her supplies from her pack and lets herself get lost in her thoughts. As she gets to work, she doesn't even notice the other students filing into the room. She works quietly, and swiftly, hoping to get to a good stopping point before the class is over. She thinks of the upcoming art show and how excited she is about Antiva. She wonders if she can bring anyone, or if she's going to have to go alone. _I'll have to remember to call mother when I get out of here,_ she thinks to herself.

Time passes, and suddenly Professor Montilyet is placing her hand on Hawke's shoulder, telling Hawke that it's time to leave. Hawke blinks, then looks around. She glances at the time and, sure enough, an hour has passed and everyone is leaving the room. Hawke begins packing her things, then turns her attention to the painting she's started. She freezes, blinks again, and feels her hands begin to shake.

The painting she's started is of her parent's spare cottage - the one that her and Leto had spent their summer together in. The cottage is in the distance, barely seen between the dense forest of trees, but it's there, smoke coming from the chimney. The sky is the color of dusk, reflected in the creek towards the bottom of the page. The painting is nowhere near complete yet, but Hawke doesn't need it to be. She knows what scene she's started, and she swallows the pain that begins to rise in her chest for the second time that day.

"Hawke?" Professor Montilyet asks. "Is everything alright, dear?"

Hawke nods, quickly moving to grab her pack and put it on her shoulder. "Everything is fine. I'm sorry, Professor. I'll be going now."

Professor Montilyet nods and bids Hawke farewell. As Hawke walks out of the classroom, she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket. She grabs it, reads the text message.

**From: Bela, 11:13 AM  
** _hey sugar, get together @ my place tonight. come over!_

Hawke goes to reply, to tell Isabela that she'll be there, when suddenly she slams full-force into someone. "Shit - "she says, and frantically snatches at the phone that flies out of her hands. She catches it, just barely, and says, "shit, I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking. I -"

She looks up, then, and feels the words stop in her throat. Standing before her, looking flustered and a little annoyed, is the man from the diner. Hawke goes still and when the man turns his familiar eyes to hers, Hawke fights the urge to run. She feels like a trapped animal, if she's being honest. She wants to run, but can't - all she can do is stare into the eyes of this beautiful man that seems hell-bent on torturing her.

"It's fine," he says, turning his eyes away from hers and shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably. And fuck, that voice again. It's deeper, a bit more scratchy, but fuck it sounds like _his_  voice.

Hawke realizes, suddenly, that she still hasn't said anything. She takes a step back, looks away from him, takes a shuddering breath to prepare to speak before he says, "Do I know you?"

She freezes, turns her eyes to his again. He's staring at her curiously, like she's a puzzle that needs to be solved. But while he's looking at her, Hawke notices one thing - he's definitely looking at her like he doesn't really know her. And that's when she knows. _This isn't him._ To confirm her theory, she says, "I don't know. Have you ever been to Lothering?"

The man shakes his head and says, "I can't say that I have."

Hawke doesn't know how to feel. A million emotions crash through her at once, but most of all she feels..disappointed? She curses herself. _Of course it wasn't him, you idiot. Even if it was, what then? What would you have done?_ She says, "If you've never been to Lothering, then you probably don't know me. " At this point, she considers ending the conversation there. Instead, she hears herself ask, "So are you new here? I don't think I've ever seen you around."

The man shrugs, "I've been enrolled for a while, but they're just now letting me start. They didn't want me to come in right before midterms."

"It's unusual that they'd let you in so late."

"Unusual circumstances call for unusual results," he says, a curious tone to his voice now. There's something in his expression that intrigues Hawke.

"Mind me asking what kind of circumstances call for a university to let a student in halfway through a semester? When that's, technically, against the rules?"

The man smirks at her then, turning his eyes to hers. He says, "I do mind, actually. Perhaps another time?"

There's a question there, and Hawke isn't quite sure what it is. She considers him for a moment. There's something about him - other than the fact that he reminds her of Leto - that intrigues Hawke. She wants to get to know him. Wants to know this beautiful, haunted man more than anything. She extends her hand and says, "Luna Hawke, but all of my friends and pretty much anyone that knows me just calls me Hawke."

The man turns his eyes to her hand, then looks back at her. Slowly, he extends his hand and places it in hers. His hand is cold, and she can feel ridges where his tattoos are swirled. Obviously, whoever did his tattoos had a heavy hand, and his skin didn't take too well to them. He says, "Fenris."

Hawke smiles at him, and drops her hand from his. "It's lovely to meet you, Fenris." She hesitates for a fraction of a second before saying, "Since you're new, you probably don't know many people yet. My friends and I are having a get together tonight. Would you be interested in coming?"

Fenris smiles and offers a noncommittal shrug. "It wouldn't hurt. It'd be nice to meet some people."

Hawke beams. "Great," she says. "Do you have a phone? I can text you the address. We're meeting at seven."

Fenris nods, and gives her his number. She enters it into her phone and, as she does, realizes she really needs to be getting to her next class. She says as much to him and he nods, glancing at his own phone before saying, "I should be going, as well. I'm meeting someone soon." He smiles at her again before saying, "It was lovely meeting you, Luna Hawke. I'll be looking forward to this evening."

Hawke feels something in her stir, and suddenly, she feels nervous. Shy? Since when was she shy? She offers a weak smile to him, and hurries around him to head to her next class. As she does, she takes out her phone, and sends a text.

**To: Bela, 11:22 AM  
** _I'll be there. I'll also be bringing a plus one. :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, short chapter but I'll definitely make up for it with the next chapter!! If you enjoyed, please leave comments and kudos. I would love to know your thoughts on this fic!
> 
> Fun fact: I'm basically writing about the college that I went to here, and some of the experiences that I had. I didn't go to art school, but Kirkwall University and some of the people you'll meet in this story are based on the college I went to and some of the students there. I'll also be writing some of my experiences into this story. So if you want to know me better, keep reading!! I'll probably start pointing out things that pertain to me and things that I've been through.
> 
> Work title and song mentioned in this chapter is "Dog Days Are Over" by Florence + The Machine and can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWOyfLBYtuU
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, if you enjoyed the story. <3
> 
> Also, if you're not already, you should follow me on tumblr! URL: http://lunaahawke.tumblr.com/


	3. Wild Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay on this chapter. Life really took hold of me these past few months. I promise I'll do better <3

There was a time, once, when Hawke was a child and the thought of going to school, getting a job, and finding a career was exciting for her.

Now? Now not so much.

Hawke looks up from desk she's trapped in and moves her eyes slowly across the room. There's a few students that seem actively engaged in the lecture Professor Harel is droning through, pens scratching across paper to take notes about some Qunari that started a revolution in the art world hundreds of years ago. Others, like Hawke herself, are sitting at their desk with looks of utter boredom. Some are outright sleeping - as in heads on their desk, breathing even, drool dripping from their mouth kind of sleeping. One girl was even starting to snore. Hawke's eyes meet the person's next to her - some kid named Nathaniel, whom Hawke only spoke with during class - and he offers her a pleading look, then mouths _kill me._

Hawke smiles and moves her eyes back to the front of the room where the professor is still speaking passionately about the Qunari and how their society has developed over the years. Hawke feels a stab of guilt. She's always liked Professor Harel - he's a very passionate man, and does a lot to help better the community - but his lectures are absolutely _awful_. He talks the entire class period, never engages his students (unless it's to critique an assignment), and is never the wiser.

A bell chimes in the middle of Professor Harel's sentence. He immediately stops talking, glances at his watch, and offers a curt nod. He turns his attention to the class and says, "That's all for today. Remember to read the rest of the chapter over the weekend. We'll be discussing it on your return. Dismissed."

Everyone stands and gathers their things. Hawke hadn't even worried about unpacking, so she simply slings her pack over her shoulder and leaves the classroom. She glances at the clock on the wall on the way out. It's a little past one thirty in the afternoon and, just in time, her stomach begins to growl. She realizes, then, that she had never eaten breakfast, and turns in the direction of Hightown. _Might as well go to Dulci's and make up my bill from this morning._

The air outside is still cold (probably colder than this morning, if Hawke is being completely honest with herself) and Hawke finds herself pulling her cardigan tighter around herself. "Should have worn a jacket," she mutters.

As she walks, she thinks back on her conversation with Fenris. Things had seemed...easy with him. Sure, all things considered, the guy's a little intimidating. He's gorgeous, for one, and no matter what Hawke does, she knows she's never going to completely shake the feeling that something about him reminds her of Leto. But, putting that aside, he seems like someone that would fit into her group of friends. He was quick to smile, and obviously had some kind of tragic backstory that he didn't want to talk about with her (which was perfectly fine, everyone has their own shit to deal with).

Hawke realizes, then, that she had never texted him the address to Isabela's house. She takes out her phone and scrolls through her list of contacts until she finds his number. The message is short and to the point.

 **To: Fenris, 1:33 PM  
** _Hey, Fen, it's Hawke. Just texting to let you know the address to Isabela's is 727 Main, Lowtown. We'll be meeting there around 7._  

When the message is sent, she slides her phone back into her pocket and continues her walk to Dulci's. It doesn't take her long to reach her destination. When she walks in, she lets out a sigh of relief at the warmth that permeates the diner. She rubs her hands together to try to get some feeling back into them and steps forward to take a seat at the bar. Dulci is behind the bar cleaning dishes. She offers Hawke a smile as she sits down and says, "Well, look who we have here. You were off in quite the rush this morning."

Hawke shrugs. "Yeah, I had something come up. Had to get to class."

Dulci smiles knowingly and looks down at the cup she's currently washing. "Whatever you say, sugar. You need anything?"

Hawke thinks for a moment. "Well, coffee for one. Then maybe some soup and a grilled cheese to eat."

Dulci smiles and turns to the open rectangle in the wall. "Guillaume! Hawke here needs a grilled cheese."

Guillaume comes to the opening and winks at Hawke. "Anything for my girl."

"Hey now," Dulci scolds as she begins pouring coffee into a mug for Hawke. "Watch yourself, sir."

Guillaume laughs and turns his back to them, starting on Hawke's food. Dulci slides the mug over to Hawke and turns to grab her soup for her. Without looking back, she asks, "So how's my Hawke?"

Hawke takes a sip of her coffee. It's hot and threatens to burn her lips, but she ignores the feeling and drinks anyway. She sets the mug down and smiles. "I'm good. Class was boring as all get-out. But," she says, and pretends to look around to make sure no one is listening. "I have a secret for you."

Dulci returns with a bowl of chicken and rice soup and slides it across to Hawke. She leans her elbows on the counter and crosses her arms over each other. Quietly, she says, "I'm intrigued. What's going on?"

Hawke smiles. "Professor Montilyet decided to submit my last piece to the contest for a spot in Antiva's Annual Art show. And I won! I'll be going to Antiva this coming spring to present my piece to their show."

Dulci's eyes widen in surprise before her mouth bursts into a smile. She pushes herself away from the counter and claps her hands together. "Ah, Hawke, darling, that's so exciting! I'm so happy for you!"

Hawke's smile widens and she grabs her spoon to take a bite of her soup. As she does, the bell above the door chimes, indicating another customer. It's one of the dwarf merchants that's always trying to sell materials outside of Dulci's. Dulci offers Hawke a quick smile, then goes to wait on him. Hawke returns to eating her soup when she feels her phone buzz. She takes it out of her pocket and reads the text.

**From: Fenris, 1:46 PM.  
** _Alright, I'll be there. Do you mind if I bring a friend? He's the one I was with at Dulci's this morning._

**To: Fenris, 1:46 PM  
** _That depends - are you and your friend some weird, serial-killing duo? Hoping to lure lil' ol' me into an alley at the end of the night and kill me?_

 Hawke smiles at her own joke and glances up as Dulci sets her grilled cheese in front of her. Hawke thanks her, then glances at the return text.

**From: Fenris, 1:47 PM  
** _We were not, the last I checked. People change, though._

**To: Fenris: 1:48 PM  
** _Just give me a little bit of a warning beforehand. I'd like to say goodbye to my dog first._

**From: Fenris, 1:50 PM  
** _Your.. dog? Not your friends? Family?_

 Hawke has to resist the urge to laugh aloud before she responds. She snorts, and quickly hides her face to pretend that it wasn't her. Not able to cover her smile, though, she writes back.

**To: Fenris, 1:51 PM  
** _Creature is a lovely animal that deserves the entirety of my love and attention. Most of all, she deserves a goodbye before I'm gone for good._

**From: Fenris, 1:53 PM  
** _You dog people are such strange beings. Is it too late to cancel?_

**To: Fenris, 1:54 PM  
** _Yes, it is. Your RSVP to tonight's gathering is locked in. >:)_

**To: Fenris, 1:56 PM  
** _Also, if you think I'm strange now, just wait until I have some alcohol in my system._

**From: Fenris, 1:59 PM  
** _What have I gotten myself into?_

**To: Fenris, 2:01 PM  
** _You have no idea._

 "What are you smiling about?" Dulci asks, finally free from having to wait on the dwarf.

Hawke hadn't realized that she had been smiling, but feels it now. Her cheeks are almost sore from smiling through her and Fenris's entire conversation. She attempts to wipe the smile off her face, but can't, so she settles on shaking her head and taking a bite of her almost-finished grilled cheese. "I'm just joking around with someone that I'm supposed to hang out with tonight."

Dulci wiggles her eyebrows at Hawke. "Is this 'someone' a person you're interested in?"

Hawke feels her cheeks grow pink and she shakes her head back and forth quickly. "No! I barely even know the guy. I just met him today."

Dulci nods, but still has the knowing look on her face. Hawke feels like she's going to start hating that face soon. Dulci goes back to cleaning the dishes and says, "Is he cute?"

 _He's probably one of the most attractive guys I've seen in my life. Ever._ Hawke doesn't say this though, and shrugs instead. "I mean, yeah, but from what I hear, everyone thinks that so far."

"Do I know him?"

"You waited on him this morning."

Dulci stops washing the plate she's holding for a moment to think back to that morning. A look of dawning realization comes over her face and she turns to Hawke, eyes wide. "It was the one with the tattoos, wasn't it? White hair, tan skin, haunted look to his eyes?"

Hawke nods, but suddenly feels uneasy. Haunted look? So she wasn't the only one that had noticed. _I mean, everyone has some kind of_ _shit to deal with, but if he's still looking so haunted, maybe the shit he has to deal with isn't in the past. Maybe he's going through it, now, and he needs help._

Hawke stands then, taking the last bite of grilled cheese and downing the rest of her soup before throwing some cash on the table, saying a short farewell to Dulci, and walking out of the restaurant. She turns in the direction of her dorm room and it doesn't take her long to get there. When she enters, she listens for a moment, trying to decide if Petrice is there or not. When she determines that the coast is clear, she walks in and drops her pack by her bed. She flops down, landing on soft pillows and a hard mattress, and thinks about her new realization. She wonders, briefly, if she should bring it up to him. She has a strong feeling that doing so would push him away, which she doesn't want to happen. She decides to leave it be. If he needs someone, there's no doubt in Hawke's mind that he would ask.

Hawke yawns, and glances at her phone. It's barely 2:30 now, and there's four hours before she needs to get ready for Bela's. _Time for a nap, then.._ Hawke thinks and kicks off her shoes before bundling herself under her blankets. She lays down and closes her eyes, snuggling her head into the pillow. It doesn't take long for her  to fall asleep.

\---

_The day is cold - freezing, actually - but Hawke doesn't feel it. She doesn't feel anything. Doesn't want to feel anything._

"Your father is dead."

_The words were said almost carelessly, off-handedly, like Hawke wouldn't fucking care that the doctor was dropping a fucking bomb on life as she knew it._

"I'm sorry."

"Don't give me that bullshit, fucking prick."

_Hawke had turned after she said it, turned and ran away from the reality of what her life would be now. She had run out of the hospital, was still running now. She's wearing a light jacket and converse that are quickly getting wet in the inches of snow on the ground, but she doesn't care. She needs to run, needs to get away from whatever the fuck is happening._

_Eventually, she starts having trouble breathing. The cold is filling her lungs, freezing her from the inside out. She stops running, turns down and alley, and finally lets herself feel._

_The pain is immeasurable. She lets out a cry, puts a hand on her chest, and leans heavily against the brick wall of one of the buildings. She takes a deep breath and releases it in another cry. She can't do this, can't deal with this. She can't-_

"Are you alright?"

_Her head snaps toward the voice. A boy stands there, black hair framing his face in soft curls. His green eyes peer at her curiously and Hawke is about to snap at him when she realizes that, though he's curious, there's no pity in his eyes. Instead of screaming at him like she had planned, she finds herself crumpling again. She wraps her arms around her body, trying to still the shaking in her body. The boy moves to stand next to her, leans against the wall a safe distance from her. Softly, he says, "You wanna talk about it?"_

_Hawke is quiet for a moment, then says, "My dad died."_

_The boy is silent for a moment. Hawke thinks he's just going to walk away and she wouldn't blame him. Instead, she hears him say, "Damn. That sucks."_

_Hawke can't help the laugh that bursts from between her lips. Of all the things to say, something so absurd was exactly what Hawke needs to hear. She shakes her head, staring at the boy with a bemused expression, and says, "Yeah. It does." Then she's extending her hand, introducing herself. "My name is Hawke."_

_He looks at her hand, then takes it and gives it a short shake before saying, "Leto. I'm sorry about your dad."_

_He smiles. It's gentle, reassuring. Hawke thinks she's never seen anything more beautiful._

\---

Hawke opens her eyes slowly. She's still curled into a ball, bundled under her blankets. She yawns, extends her body in a long stretch, and looks at the time. She groans. Somehow, she had managed to waste the entire day sleeping. It was a little past six, time to get ready and go to Bela's.

Hawke flings the blankets off of herself and immediately regrets it. Her room is significantly colder than her safe haven under her blankets. She stands, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, and heads to the bathroom.  She glances at herself in the mirror and fights another yawn as she picks up her brush and starts running it through her hair. It doesn't take long for her to get her hair in a decent braid. She applies simple, neutral makeup and is about to slide into her shoes when she hears her phone buzz.

**From: Bela, 6:47 PM  
** _Girrrrrrrl, where r u? Every1 is already here!_

**To: Bela, 6:48 PM  
** _Sorry, I fell asleep. I'm omw now._

 Hawke tucks her phone into her pocket and grabs her keys. She usually walks to conserve gas but, quite frankly, after her nap she doesn't feel like walking. She walks out to her car - an old Toyota Camry that didn't look too special, but had lasted her six years now, so Hawke couldn't complain - and gets in. She connects her phone to her car to charge while she drives, and pulls out to head to Isabela's.

Traffic in Kirkwall is a beast to have to deal with, especially between the hours of 4:30 and 7, when everyone is getting out of work and going home. True to its nature, the traffic to Isabela's is bumper to bumper, and Hawke doesn't get there until sometime after seven.  When she gets there, she walks in to see everyone sitting around the tv, watching some weird documentary about a guy that apparently didn't commit a murder, but was jailed for it anyway. It had been Isabela's latest obsession, one that she talked about constantly.

"Has anything new come up yet?" Hawke asks, moving to sit on the floor in front of Merrill, who was perched cozily on the couch.

Anders, who was sitting on the opposite side of the couch from Merrill, grumbles, "No, there hasn't been. We've watched two episodes now of the same thing, back to back."

Isabela groans and shoots Anders and Hawke a glare. "You all just don't understand. This poor guy served years in prison for a crime he didn't commit, just because some asshole cop didn't like him."

Hawke laughs and shakes her head. She watches the documentary quietly for a few minutes. When she decides she's had enough, she stands. "Well, I'm going to get a drink. Anyone want anything?"

Anders claps his hands on his knees, standing with her. "I thought you'd never ask. I'll come with."

Hawke nods, then turns her attention to Merrill, Isabela, and Bethany. All of them shake their head, engrossed in what's playing on the television. Hawke rolls her eyes and follows Anders into the kitchen.

"Have they been watching that all evening?" Hawke asks when they enter the kitchen.

Anders snorts. "Yes, they have, and I've been dying. Thanks for that."

Hawke laughs. "You seem to have lived through it."

"Barely," Anders mutters as he grabs a beer out of the fridge.

Hawke moves to the counter across the kitchen that holds all the hard liquor. She grabs a shot glass and pours some Tennessee honey in one. She glances at Anders, holding up the full shot glass. "Want one?"

Anders shrugs, and takes the shot from Hawke. Hawke grabs another glass and pours it for herself. When it's full, they toast each other, then take the shot. Hawke winces as the alcohol burns her throat. Tennessee honey is usually smooth, but as the first night of the shot? Still provides a bit of a burn.

Hawke is about to pour herself another shot when the doorbell rings. She rushes to answer it, but by the time she turns the corner out of the kitchen, Isabela is already opening the door. She watches as Isabela's body language noticeably changes from slightly curious to sensual. She leans against the doorway, crossing her arms over her chest to push her assets together. When she turns, she offers Hawke a teasing look before... oh, Maker, before she _purrs,_ "You didn't tell me how attractive these guys were."

"What guys?" Merrill asks curiously from the couch.

Isabela steps aside, letting Fenris and his friend into the house. Hawke feels her heart flutter when she sees Fenris. _Maker,_ he was good looking. He's dressed in a simple black sweater, sleeves pushed up to his elbows to reveal his tattoos; dark jeans, black converse, and a dark grey beanie on his head. His eyes scan the room nervously until he finds Hawke. When he does, his face breaks into an easy smile. Hawke finds herself smiling back before she realizes the entire room is watching. She clears her throat and steps forward. "Everyone, this is Fenris and..?"

She lets her gaze find Fenris's friend. His friend's reddish-brown hair is slicked back once again, giving a clear view of his bright blue eyes. He's dressed in a white button-up, light jeans, and white sneakers. He offers a confident smile and introduces himself, his voice thick with his Starkhaven accent. "I'm Sebastian."

Hawke returns his smile and nods. "Fenris, Sebastian, this is Bethany, Isabela, Merrill, and Anders."

She points at each person as she introduces them. Bethany and Merrill wave at the boys, Isabela winks, and Anders nods. When introductions are finished, Hawke waves Fenris into the kitchen. Fenris casts a glance over to Sebastian, who waves him off and takes a place on the couch by Merrill. Isabela returns to her seat by Bethany and Anders walks back into the kitchen with Hawke and Fenris.

"So Fenris," Anders asks as he sets his beer down on the middle island and leans back against the counter, arms crossed. "What brings you to Kirkwall U?"

Fenris shrugs. "Circumstances in Starkhaven dictated that I move to Kirkwall."

"What circumstances?" Anders pries, taking a sip of his beer as he eyes Fenris suspiciously.

"Does it really matter?" Hawke asks, suddenly feeling defensive. She didn't like the way Anders was looking at Fenris. He didn't even know the guy, but he was acting like Fenris did something to personally insult him.

Fenris grinned, his eyes guarded but intense - challenging Anders. "You're not even going to get me a drink before bombarding me with questions you know I won't want to answer?"

Anders rolls his eyes. "Didn't realize it was going to be such a big deal. But, if you insist - what do you want?"

Fenris shrugs. "Do you have wine? I'm not much of a beer person."

Anders is silent for a moment as he stares at Fenris. He blinks, slowly, and raises an eyebrow. "You want.. wine? Who drinks wine at a social gathering?"

Hawke rolls her eyes. "Maker, the testosterone in here is suffocating. Anders, back off, man. What's your problem?"

Anders throws his arms into the air, very nearly spilling his beer. "Nothing! I was just trying to get to know the man. My bad." He shakes his head, incredulous, and shoulders past Hawke to exit the kitchen and join the rest of the group.

Hawke turns her attention to Fenris with a sigh. "I'm sorry about that. I don't really know what his problem was. He gets...protective of me, I guess."

Fenris turns his gaze to Hawke's. He studies her long enough to make Hawke wonder if she should say something else. Before she can speak, he says, "He's right to be worried about new people. I can't blame him."

Hawke offers a gentle smile, then turns to the cabinet by the fridge, where Isabela generally stored her wine glasses. She glances at Fenris as she grabs a glass from the cabinet and says, "What kind of wine do you usually like? I'm sure Bela has it."

"I usually enjoy some kind of red. Something from Tevinter, if she has it."

Hawke nods, and turns to the small wine cooler Isabela had insisted buying for herself two Christmases ago. She opens it, studies the wine for while, and shakes her head. "Nothing Tevene," she says, and takes out a bottle to present to him. "This one is a pretty good Orlesian red though."

She looks to Fenris and see him shrug. Taking that as acceptance, she stands, pours him a generous amount, then returns the bottle to the fridge. He thanks her, takes the glass from her, and takes a slow sip. After, he smiles and nods. "It's good."

Hawke smiles at him and returns her attention to the shot she had been about to pour earlier. She holds the glass up to Fenris and asks, "Want one?"

Fenris smiles, but declines. Hawke shrugs and fills her shot glass up once more. It's easier going down this time, and when she finishes it, she sets the shot glass by the bottle of whiskey. She grabs a beer from the fridge, pops the top off, and turns to Fenris. "So," she says, then nods in the direction of the living room. "I guess we can join everyone else now."

A loud cheer erupts from the other room, followed closely by laughter and a loud groan from Anders. Fenris grins and says, "Please, let's."

 He follows her into the main room. Hawke notices that the television is now off and everyone is gathered around the table. Somehow, in the span of the three minutes it took for Hawke to get Fenris his drink and for her to take another shot, the group had gotten out a deck of cards and played a round of poker.

A round that Anders had very obviously lost, by his lack of shirt.

"Is this the kind of night we're having?" Hawke asks, teasing. She takes a seat on the couch and Sebastian moves closer to Merrill so that Fenris has room to sit between him and Hawke. It's cozy, but the four of them make it work.

"I don't know how this is different from any other kind of night we have," Isabela says. "You know I have an uncanny ability to get everyone in the room naked."

Hawke flinches and shoots a quick, apologetic glance Fenris's way. The look on his face clearly says that he does _not_ want to take his clothes off in a room full of people he'd only just met. Hawke clears her throat and says, "How about we wait to take off our clothes until we're not with people we're _just_ meeting?"

Isabela groans, but after a quick examination of the room, she seems to be the only person disappointed. Hawke moves her eyes to Fenris, who is looking at her like she just saved his life. He mouths a silent _thank you_ and she smiles at him. Isabela works on gathering the cards back and says, "well, if we can't strip, what should we play?"

"Oh, oh, I know!" Merrill chimes. "How about we play that one where we confess things we have to confess things we've done. I'm quite good at that one!"

"Kitten, the point of Never Have I Ever is to _not_ be the first one out." Isabela says with a grin.

"Oh," Merrill says, deflating. She glances around the room, her cheeks pink. "I can't help it that you humans care so much about everything."

From the recliner across the room, Bethany says, "Never have I ever been on a fad diet."

Isabela throws her arms into the air, "It was _once_. I can't believe you guys _still_ aren't letting me live that down!"

Hawke snickers as Isabela holds up both hands with a single finger down. She says, "I mean, weight watchers does work for some people. But, Bela, you already eat well anyway. I'm pretty sure you gained weight from that."

Isabela rolls her eyes as everyone else laughs. She says, "Fine, fine, you're right. Well, never have I ever been arrested."

She stares pointedly at Hawke and Hawke sighs, holding up her hands and dropping a finger. "That's not fair and you know it. Technically, you should have been arrested, too."

Isabela winks and says, "Just have to learn to flirt your way out of it, dear. You'll never get in trouble again."

"Well," Fenris says beside her. "If we're really playing this.." He holds up his hands and drops a finger. As does Sebastian, Bethany, Anders, and Merrill.

Hawke shakes her head and says, "How is it the woman that just bragged about being able to get a room full of people naked is the only one here that hasn't been in a pair of cuffs."

"Oh, honey," Isabela purrs. "I have, just not involved in a legal dispute."

Everyone laughs, and the ice is broken. The rest of the game goes relatively smooth and, as per usual, starts getting dirty towards the end. By then, people already had a couple drinks in them, so they were starting to get more open and honest. The game makes its way around to Hawke and she has to think for a moment. They'd already covered threesomes (Isabela and Merrill had lost that round), hard drugs (Hawke, Anders, and Merrill had lost), and shoplifting (everyone had lost except for Bethany). Hawke was running out of ideas when she finally says, "Never have I ever had to run like my life depended on it."

From across the room, Anders drops a finger. He was down to only three now. He rolls his eyes and says, "You know how protests get downtown. Cops got there, someone got violent, non-lethal weapons were drawn - but you never know."

Hawke nods solemnly. From the corner of her eye, she sees Fenris's finger drop. She glances at him and is about to encourage Anders to take his turn when Merrill interrupts and asks, "Oh, goodness, Fenris, why did you have to run?"

Hawke turns her attention to him. He looks shocked, like he hadn't realized his finger had dropped. He swallows, and Hawke hears Sebatian clear his throat. Hawke shakes her head and looks at Merrill, "Mer, you know it's a rule in the game that you can't _ask_ someone about what they did. They have to voluntarily tell you."

Merrill makes a pouty face and drops the subject.  Anders finally starts his turn and everyone turns their attention to what he says. Hawke watches Fenris. Slowly, he lowers his hands to his lap. His expression falls to a more neutral look, but his hands begin to fidget together. Hawke can tell that he's shaken from the attention - that something was very obviously wrong with whatever had happened that made him run. Lightly, she lets her leg fall to the side to rest against his. He jumps at the touch and looks down at his knee. His hands still and he moves his eyes to Hawke's. His eyes are scared and - in a way - distant. She offers him a reassuring smile. He attempts a smile back, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. He turns his attention back to what's being said and Hawke follows suit, though she doesn't hear. She's worried about Fenris now - worried that there was a boundary that was over-stepped and now he would want nothing to do with Hawke or her friends anymore.

She sighs, and asks him quietly, "You want to get away from here?"

He glances her way and nods. Hawke stands and says, "Alright, guys, I'm gonna turn in for the night. I know it's early, but I have some things to do tomorrow morning."

"I think I'm going to, as well, "Fenris says beside her, and stands to follow her. Hawke hears Isabela whistle under her breath, but both Fenris and Hawke ignore it. Hawke makes a stop in the kitchen to grab the bottle of whiskey and a can of soda, then continues down the hall to the largest guest bedroom. She lets Fenris enter first and says, "You can sleep here tonight. I'll go to another room."

Hawke is about to turn away when she hears, quietly, "Stay."

When she turns back to Fenris, his eyes are pleading. The fear has not left his eyes but, now, it's almost a fear of being alone. Hawke's heart shatters a little, but she ignores it. She nods and says, "Okay."

She enters the room and closes the door behind her. Fenris stands in the middle of the room, looking around like he's unsure of what to do next. Hawke walks over to the bedside table and sets her glass on it. She opens the bottle of whiskey, pours a shot's worth into the glass, and turns to offer it to Fenris. She says, "When you're having a bout of anxiety, I find the best way to calm down is to just take a shot."

Fenris watches her for a moment, quietly, but then nods and accepts the alcohol. His face scrunches as he swallows, and he lets out a disgusted groan. "Maker, that stuff is awful."

Hawke smiles and takes the glass from him, then fills it with soda and whiskey. She takes a sip and shrugs, "Not usually my first choice, but I came here to get drunk tonight and I'm not there yet so - "she pauses a moment to lift up her glass. "-cheers."

Fenris smiles and shrugs, walking over and grabbing the bottle of whiskey. He clinks the bottle against her cup and takes a long drink. He shudders when he's done and sets the bottle heavily on the bedside table. Hawke laughs and says, "If you don't want that, I can go get you more wine."

Fenris shakes his head. "No, it's fine. I need something to accelerate my night."

Hawke sits on the bed and scoots back against the headboard. Fenris walks to the other side of the bed and mimics her posture - legs out in front of them, ankles crossed. They're quiet for a moment before Fenris says, "Thank you. For uh - for sticking up for me out there. And for staying now."

Hawke takes a drink before she answers. "It's alright. You don't have to thank me. Everyone has their own shit they've had to deal with. Sometimes that shit is better left in the past where it belongs. My friends are just...open people. Our stories are written all over the way we carry ourselves. We figure there's no need of hiding who we were, because we're not those people today, ya know? And even if -" she pauses, then sighs. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

Fenris grins and shakes his head. "No you're not. I can see it with you. I may not know specifics, but I can tell all of you have been through hard times, in some form or another."

Hawke smiles at him and shrugs. She looks down into her glass as she says, "Mine isn't too bad. My dad died. It was..hard, for a time. I was the oldest of three children, and my mom sort of lost it for a while, so it was my responsibility after to clean up the pieces of my broken family."

Silence stretches between them. Hawke wasn't sure why she felt like she needed to tell Fenris anything at all. She had only just met him, but she somehow knew that whatever he had been through, it was worse. She says, "I'm sorry for saying anything. I'm not...quite sure why I wanted to tell you, but there it is, anyway. I - "

"I am sorry that you had to go through that, Hawke. Losing a parent is never easy." Fenris's voice is quiet, but it's sincere.

Suddenly, Hawke feels shaky. She'd talked about her dad a lot recently, but everyone was so used to hearing about him that it hadn't really bothered her to talk about him. With a new person, though, someone who hadn't known and was now offering condolences for a man he had never known - something in that touched Hawke. She shook her head and took a long drink before saying, "It's nothing. Like I said, I don't really know why I felt the need to tell you. I just wanted you to know that, even though you've been through some shit, so have I. I understand. You also don't ever have to talk to me about it if you'd rather leave your past dead and buried."

Fenris shrugs and nods towards the bottle of whiskey he had left on Hawke's side of the bed. She hands it to him and he takes a long drink. When he speaks, a chill runs through Hawke's spine. He says, "What I'm going through isn't in my past though. I'm still going through it."

Hawke pauses for a moment and turns her eyes to him. He won't look at her now. He's looking very pointedly down into the half-full bottle of whiskey. _So I was right,_ she thinks and then says, quietly, "You don't have to tell me, but - are you in danger?"

Fenris shakes his head. He doesn't answer.

The silence answers Hawke's question. She looks away, down into her drink. She opens her mouth to speak, but he interrupts her. "It's alright if you don't want to be friends with me now. I just thought you should know, just in case."

Hawke doesn't know how to answer. She's quiet for too long. She feels Fenris shift next to her. He sets the bottle on the bedside table on his side and moves to get out of bed. Hawke reaches out and grabs the end of his sweater before he can get up. He freezes and turns his attention to her. Hawke says, "I'm not worried about myself. If you're in any real danger, I'm worried for you. I just don't want to see you hurt."

Fenris studies her for a moment, then sighs, laying back against the headboard. Hawke watches him, studies his face as he tries to gather his thoughts. He says, "I assure you I won't be hurt. You said you have never run for your life, but I - " he stops, swallows. His eyes close as he says, "I am running now. Every day, every moment, I am running."

Hawke feels her heart break. She wants to reach out and comfort him, but a feeling in her gut tells her that he doesn't want to be touched. Instead, she says, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Fenris turns his eyes to her's and offers her a weak smile. His eyes are sad when he says, "Just be my friend in the mean time. That's all I ask."

Hawke nods, a smile spreading across her face. "I can do that."

Fenris nods, accepting her answer.

They continue talking for a while. Eventually, Hawke finishes her drink, and they start passing the whiskey back and forth. Between the two of them, the bottle is nearly finished. When they're both finally good and drunk, Hawke slurs, "I'm - I'm kinda.. tired.. Do you think I can just.. sleep here?"

Fenris moves under the blankets, pulling them tight under his chin before he answers. "I dunno 'bout you, but I know I'm gonna."

Hawke nods and stands to turn off the light. She stumbles a bit, but ultimately manages to get the light off and get back in bed unscathed. When she gets under the blankets and finally settles in she says, "You know, Fen, I wasn't going to say anything but - but I think you should know. You remind me of someone."

Fenris grunts in response. Hawke turns to him and, though her vision is blurry, she can tell that he's already almost asleep. She sighs, but doesn't push the topic. It doesn't take her long to fall asleep and, when she finally does, she dreams of Leto - a Leto with white hair, and intricate tattoos, and sad, haunted eyes the color of a green, grass meadow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work title and song mentioned in this chapter is "Wild Things" by Alessia Cara and can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=De30ET0dQpQ
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, if you enjoyed the story. <3
> 
> Also, if you're not already, you should follow me on tumblr! URL: http://lunaahawke.tumblr.com/


	4. Broken

Hawke is aware of two things upon waking:

First, that she is freezing because she has no blankets to cover herself.

And second, that she doesn’t have blankets because she’s not alone in bed.

There’s a moment of panic before everything comes back to her. She had been at Isabela’s and they were playing Never Have I Ever. Fenris had seemed upset, so Hawke had jumped to his defense and asked if he wanted to get away. He had agreed, so she had led him to the guest bedroom. They had started drinking and then –

She turns her head slowly and, sure enough, Fenris is next to her – bundled tightly under a mound of blankets. He’s still resting peacefully, on his side so that he’s facing Hawke. His mouth is slightly open and his breathing comes soft and even. The sunlight is filtering in through a crack in the curtains, casting a soft glow at the top of Fenris’s head. Hawke studies him for a moment, and she is completely in awe. He is, in short, the most gorgeous person Hawke thinks she has ever laid her eyes on. Without thinking, she reaches a tentative hand forward and lightly brushes her fingers along his cheek.

His reaction is immediate, and Hawke has to stifle a scream.

As soon as her fingers touch his skin, his hand flashes from beneath the mound of blankets. He grabs her wrist and squeezes, hard, causing Hawke to suck in a gasp of air. His face, which had been so peaceful only moments before, is now filled with emotions – rage, fear, confusion.

“Fenris,” Hawke manages, shifting her body so that some of the pressure on her wrist is relieved. “Fenris, you’re hurting me.”

It takes a couple seconds of labored breathing – in and out, in and out, slowly – before he starts to release his grip. His face begins to clear, the rage and fear gradually melting away, leaving him only confused. His eyes scan frantically over Hawke’s face and he says, his voice small in the silence around them, “Hawke?”

“It’s me, Fenris,” Hawke soothes. “It’s me.”

As suddenly as he had woken, he springs to life again. He lets go of Hawke and sits up, hovering his hands over Hawke’s wrist. “Hawke – Maker, I’m so sorry – shit. Are you hurt? I’m so sorry.”

Hawke sits up as well, swallowing the panic that had risen in her chest at his sudden outburst. Quietly, and in the most even voice she can manage, she says, “It’s okay, Fenris. I won’t lie – it did hurt - but nothing too terrible. See?” She holds up her wrist. It’s red and will probably bruise a little, but no major damage had been done.

Fenris’s eyes shoot to her wrist and he winces. He closes his eyes and says again, “I’m so sorry, Hawke.”

Hawke reaches forward, sliding her hand across the blanket so Fenris is aware that her touch is coming, and places it gently on his knee. He opens his eyes, looks at her hand on his knee, then moves his gaze to her eyes. His eyes are sad and Hawke feels her heart break. She feels awful for putting him in this position. She offers what she hopes is a comforting smile and says, “Would you like some breakfast? I can drive us to Dulci’s.”

Fenris considers, then nods. Hawke grabs her cardigan from the floor (which she had apparently taken off in her sleep, because she had no recollection of it), puts it on, and heads to the bedroom door. Fenris follows after her quietly, but stops her before she opens the door. He says, “I should let Sebastian know first.”

Hawke nods in understanding. The house is relatively small, so she’s not too worried about being able to find Sebastian. She opens the door quietly and steps into the hallway. The house is silent, indicating that everyone is still asleep. Hawke realizes, then, that she had never even checked what time it was before getting out of bed. She reaches into her back pocket to check her phone, only to touch empty air. _Oh right, I left it on the nightstand. Oh well. If anyone needs me, they can have Sebastian call Fenris._

They end up finding Sebastian in the front room, sleeping soundly on the couch they had been gathered on the night before. He’s still asleep, breathing slow and even – a soft snore escaping his mouth every couple breaths. Fenris shakes him slightly, trying to wake him. He stirs, but doesn’t even open his eyes as he turns onto his side. “Sebastian,” Fenris urges, shaking him again. Sebastian groans and waves him off. Fenris glances at Hawke, shrugs, and turns away from him. Hawke follows Fenris to the front door, grabbing her keys from the end table by the couch on the way. They both put on their shoes and make their leave.

The air outside is chilly, causing Hawke to shiver slightly when the wind caresses her skin. She crosses her arms across her chest for warmth and complains, “You’d figure I’d have learned by now to always carry a jacket with me.”

Fenris snorts and touches the zipper on his jacket. “Would you like mine?”

Hawke shakes her head as they reach her car. “No, but thank you for offering.”

They get in the camry and are both quiet as Hawke starts the car. She prays to the Maker that the cd she has in isn’t weird. She’s so used to playing music from her phone that she doesn’t even remember which cd she has in the player. Thankfully, the song that starts playing is a gentle one – soft guitar, followed by an even gentler voice.

Hawke pulls away from the curb as the first verse begins. The woman’s voice is soft, a bit scratchy, but lovely all the same. After a couple minutes in, Hawke hears Fenris start humming along quietly. She looks at him with a smile and asks, “You know Norah Jones?”

Fenris shrugs and his cheeks turn a light pink. Hawke has to fight the urge to grin like an idiot at how adorable it is. She looks ahead again and asks, “What else do you listen to?

Fenris is silent a moment before answering. “Anything, really. I tend to avoid country and pop music, but that’s not to say that I don’t have my moods.” He smiles, then looks out of the window before continuing. “My heart lies with classical music, though. It helps me compose my own pieces.”

Hawke glances at him, then back to the road as she turns left into Hightown. They’ll be at Dulci’s soon. She asks, “Is that what you’re studying at Kirkwall U? Music comp?”

She sees Fenris smile and nod out of the corner of her eye. She finds herself smiling, too. Fenris asks, “What are you here for?”

Hawke shrugs as she pulls to a stop at the light before Dulci’s. She says, “In general, I’m looking for a fine arts degree, with a focus in painting.”

“Have you always been an artist?” Fenris asks.

Hawke smiles and moves the car through the intersection when the light turns green. “I have.”

“Nnn,” is all Fenris murmers in response, his eyes on Dulci’s as they pull into the parking lot. Hawke giggles when she hears his stomach growl and says, “Me, too. I’m starving. Let’s go.”

They get out and head inside. It’s warm and noisy – apparently busy, even though it’s really early on a Saturday morning. They walk towards the back, waving at Dulci as they do, and take a seat in one of the free booths. Fenris sits on the side facing the door and Hawke takes a seat across from him.

It doesn’t take long for Dulci to make her way over. When she does, her eyes scan quickly between Hawke and Fenris. After making sure Fenris isn’t looking, she shoots Hawke a questioning (but approving) look. Hawke offers a barely-perceptible head shake, but the movement is enough to draw Fenris’s attention. He looks at her and his eyebrows scrunch together as he tries to figure out their silent conversation. Dulci finally reaches the table and beams at them – a million-watt smile that could blow anyone away with its kindness. “Good morning,” she greets, setting menus down on the table and looking between the pair. “What can I get you both to drink?”

“Coffee, black,” the both say, their eyes drawn down to their menu. They look up after they speak and laugh. Dulci shakes her head, a knowing smile on her face as she turns away.

Hawke looks back down at her menu and says, “Thank goodness. I’m pretty much the only one of my friends that likes coffee.”

“Sounds like you need better friends,” Fenris teases.

“Hey now,” Hawke warns, shooting him a playful glance. “You’ve met them. You know that they’re the perfect kind of friends to have.”

Fenris grins, setting his menu aside after having decided what to eat. He says, “We’ll see.”

Before Hawke can retort, Emile – Dulci’s son – walks up to their table, coffee pot in hand. Hawke and Fenris flip their mugs over and set them at the end of the table. As Emile begins filling them with coffee, he says, “My mother apologizes for not being able to make it back. She’s rather busy this morning.”

Hawke smiles and takes a small sip of her coffee. She glances over and sees Dulci behind the bar, talking to two rather large Qunari men. One of the men is telling a story, making wide gestures with his arms as he does. He paused in his storytelling and, right on cue, Dulci lets out a laugh. The man’s chest visibly swells with pride as he continues with his story.

Hawke turns her attention back to Emile and says, “So she is. It’s alright, though. What are you doing back, Emile? I thought you went away to that really upscale college. The Circle, wasn’t it?”

Emile snorts. “Right. ‘Upscale’.” He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Anyway. What can I get you to eat?”

Hawke hesitates. She had spent a lot of time with Emile when she had come to Kirkwall as a freshman. He was a senior in high school at the time, and had left for college immediately upon graduating. When she had known him, he had always been a happy, care-free person. A bit awkwardly flirty, at times – but he had always been kind. There was something about him now – about the way his eyes skittered nervously around the room, as if he were expecting someone to jump out at him at any moment – that set Hawke on edge.

Fenris clears his throat, then says, “I’d like the three egg meal. Over-medium, sausage, wheat toast.”

Emile nods and both men turn their attention to Hawke. She swallows her questions and mutters, “I just want a waffle, nothing on the side.”

Emile nods once more and turns back to the bar to enter their orders.

Fenris wraps his hands around his coffee mug and takes a sip before asking, “Everything alright?”

Hawke shrugs, and turns her eyes to Emile. He’s behind the bar, his hands buried half-deep in dishwater now. As he’s cleaning a dish, one of the others slides rather loudly into the sink. Emile flinches, then squeezes his eyes closed as he tries to steady his breathing and pretend like nothing happened. Hawke sighs and says, “I’m just curious what happened while he was away. He used to be happy and carefree all the time. A bit awkward, but he always had a smile on his face. Now he looks like he’s seen a ghost.”

Fenris turns his eyes to Emile, watching him work for a few moments. His face is thoughtful and, when he turns his attention back to Hawke, his eyes are genuine. “Perhaps he’s just tired? It is rather early in the day.”

Hawke shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee. “Maybe.”

They’re quiet for a moment. Hawke hears the bell above the door chime, indicating someone entering or exiting the restaurant. She sees Fenris’s eyes flick quickly to the door, his body tensing. Hawke feels herself tense too, but then watches as Fenris visibly relaxes when he finally sees who entered the building. Or, in his case, who didn’t.  Hawke feels something tug at her heart at the realization. _Is this really how he lives? Constantly aware of his position in a building, afraid of who may come through the door?_

Fenris looks back at Hawke and notices her expression. He was aware that she had just witnessed what transpired with him. His cheeks turn pink again and he stares pointedly into his coffee. “Sorry,” he says, shooting a quick glance to Hawke. “Habit.”

Hawke offers a reassuring smile. “It’s alright,” she says, then takes a sip of her coffee. “Whatever helps you to feel safe is perfectly fine with me. If you’d rather me ignore it, I will. I was just worried for a second.”

Fenris flashes a smile, seemingly grateful that Hawke doesn’t press further. “So,” he begins. “How does a lovely lady like yourself find herself at Kirkwall University?”

Hawke has to fight the fluttering in her stomach when he says the word _lovely_. She knows he said it to be distracting, but she still can’t fight the feeling of warmth that floods her cheeks. She clears her throat and looks down into her coffee. “I just… wanted to get away from home.” She shrugs, and take another sip of her coffee before continuing. “I had lived in Lothering my whole life. I just wanted to try somewhere different, but still be close enough to home to visit when I wanted. Where are you from?”

Fenris smiles softly. “I think the better question to ask is where I _haven’t_ lived.” He finishes the rest of his coffee before continuing, “I was born and spent most of my life in Tevinter. I spent about 6 months in Seheron, then went back to Tevinter for a few months; left from there to Antiva for about a year. I lived in Orlais after that for about two years and, most recently, I found my way to Stakhaven, living with the Vael family. Managed to get Sebastian and I into some trouble which, in turn, ended us both up here.”

When he had said he was from Tevinter, Hawke felt her heartbeat pick up. _I knew it._ But then he had kept listing places he had lived, and she had felt a growing sense of disappointment that he didn’t mention a year in Ferelden. He had been everywhere across Thedas, but had somehow managed to never be in Ferelden. So, really, that meant he couldn’t be –

“Hawke?” Fenris asks, concern etched in his features.

Hawke snaps her gaze to Fenris. She moves her mouth to speak, but comes up with nothing. Just in time, Emile walks over with their food. They’re quiet as he sets the plates in front of them, and decline when asked if they need anything else. Hawke begins preparing her waffle (a little butter in every square, the entire thing drowned in syrup) before she finally asks, her tone as nonchalant as possible, “So, you’ve never been to Ferelden?”

Fenris is silent for long enough that is draws Hawke attention from her waffle. When she looks at him, he’s staring down at his food. His hands are poised just above the plate, fork and knife in hand as if he were about to take a bite but forgot what he was doing mid-process. He seems to be debating with himself over something – his eyes scanning absently over the table like the answer is just going to appear on the laminate. Hawke gives him the time he needs and after a minute or two of silence, he sets his cutlery down and turns his attention to Hawke. “I – “ he starts, then pauses, looking down at his food before continuing. “I suppose I should let you know that there’s a part of my life that I do not remember. I suffer from amnesia due to head trauma in a car accident I was in about three years ago.”

As if to prove that he’s not lying, he reaches up and pushes his hair back from his forehead. Hawke has to stifle a gasp at what she sees.

Her attention is first drawn to the center of his forehead where he has three small dots that match the rest of the tattoos on his body. They’re white and slightly risen from the skin, as if they didn’t heal properly. Hawke lets her eyes move left, to the scar that stretches from his right temple, up along his forehead until it disappears into the center of the hairline. The scar is raised and has dots along its entire length, indicating that it was once held together with staples. There are other cuts along his forehead – small ones, barely noticeable – that hint at where the glass had probably shattered around his face upon impact.

After a moment, he drops his hand, letting his hair fall back in his face. Once its settled back in place, the scars and tattoos are completely covered. He smiles weakly and says, “There are two years missing from my memory. Maybe in that time, I may have visited Ferelden briefly. But, to my knowledge, I went to sleep in Tevinter and woke up in Tevinter. I only had – “ he pauses, apparently searching for the right word. “I only had my _caregiver_ to tell me what had happened.”

Hawke wants to know more – what years is he missing from his memory? Why did he say caregiver so spitefully? – but instead says, “Oh, Fenris..”

“I don’t need your pity, Hawke.” Fenris says, an edge creeping into his voice. He sighs and says under his breath, “Besides, maybe my lack of memory is just a blessing in disguise.”

Hawke bites her lip and nods, stuffing the questions she has for another time. Instead, she chooses to change the subject. “So.. music comp, huh? What do you play?”

Fenris shrugs, and his body visibly relaxes again at the change of subject. He takes a bite of egg before answering, “A little bit of everything, though my real passion is for the piano.”

“How long have you been playing?”

“For as long as I can remember.” He smiles, then asks, “How about you? When did you know that you were an artist?”

“For as long as I can remember,” Hawke teases.

Fenris chuckles and something in Hawke stirs. The sound is heavenly – a deep grumble in his chest that brings a laugh to Hawke’s own lips. Hawke could live forever, she thinks, knowing that she was the cause of such laughter.

The rest of the meal passes easily. They have light conversation, interrupted only by their eating and having their coffee refilled. Hawke finds out that Fenris’s favorite color is green and she informs him that hers is red. Hawke talks about her two siblings, and Fenris says that he may or may not have a sister. His favorite movie is Lord of the Rings, his favorite book series is the Inheritance Cycle, his favorite television series is Game of Thrones. They lose track of time talking about the series, ranting about how long it’s taking for the final book to come out, when suddenly, Fenris’s phone starts ringing. He glances at the caller ID before answering.

“Sebastian,” he says curtly. His tone is concise, entirely different than how he’s been talking with Hawke. Hawke doesn’t have time to think too much about it before he speaking again. “I apologize. Hawke and I will be back soon.” With that, he hangs up the phone and says to Hawke, “Everyone is awake. Apparently, they’re quite worried about you and are moments away from launching a search party.”

Hawke rolls her eyes. “Let me guess – Isabela?”

Fenris smirks. “You know your friends so well.”

Hawke laughs. She grabs a $20 from her wallet and waves off Fenris’s attempts to pay his share. They stand and Hawke hands the $20 to Dulci before leaving. Dulci points at her and waves her finger between Hawke and Fenris. “You two watch yourselves. Be careful out there.”

Hawke smiles and says, “Always.”

The drive back to Isabela’s is quiet. Hawke plays Norah Jones again on the way back. As she listens to the song that starts playing, emotions crash through her unexpectedly.

_He’s got a broken voice and a twisted smile. Guess he’s been that way for a little while. Got blood on his shoes and mud on his brim. Did he do it to himself, or was it done to him?_

Hawke thinks back on her and Fenris’s conversations. Hawke wasn’t sure of much about Fenris, but she was sure that he had had a hard life, at least recently, and that he was currently in danger from something or someone. Though Fenris was hard to read, there were things about him that stood out to Hawke – the way his eyes were constantly searching faces, looking for someone; the way he reacted this morning when Hawke had touched him unexpectedly; the fact that he had moved around all his life, never settling in one place for too long. The song made Hawke think of Fenris, of his life, of how he’s lived this way for so long that everything he did now was purely out of habit. She’s suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to get to _know_ Fenris. She wants nothing more than to just be there for him, to be someone he turns to when shit starts hitting the fan.

She knows now is not the time to press, though, and remains silent on the ride back.

When they get back to Isabela’s, Bethany is waiting on the porch, hands on her hips and looking more like Mother than ever. Hawke groans and says, “Looks ike I’m in trouble.”

Fenris chuckles, but otherwise says nothing as he gets out of the car.

Hawke goes to grab her phone from the middle console and panics that she had left it at the restaurant before remembering _oh yeah, I left it here. No wonder Beth looks so pissed._

When she finally gets out of the car and closes the door, she shoots Bethany an apologetic glance. Bethany shakes her head and shoulders past Fenris as he crests the top of the porch stairs. She makes a beeline for Hawke. Hawke swallows nervously and walks around the car to meet her sister halfway.

As soon as she’s close enough, Bethany shoves Hawke’s phone into her hands. When she speaks, her voice is furious. “Do you have _any_ idea how worried I was?”

Hawke sighs and scratches the back of her head. This wouldn’t be the first time she had seemingly stayed out all night and caused people to worry. Though, this time, she hadn’t actually meant to.

“I’m sorry, Beth,” she says. “I didn’t realize I had forgotten my phone until I had already left. And, you know me, once I’m out the door, I’m not going back.”

Bethany jabs her finger in Hawke’s chest, causing Hawke to wince. “You were with a man that none of us know. Not only did you sleep with him last night –“

“I didn’t – “ Hawke tries to interrupt, but Bethany ignores her.

“ – but then we all wake up the next morning to find you both not here. And you _somehow_ manage to forget your phone so that I can’t make sure you’re okay?” Her voice is slightly frantic, an edge of whatever panic she had felt prior seeping into her voice.

Hawke’s heart breaks. She honestly hadn’t meant to worry anyone, and really hadn’t thought leaving her phone behind would be such a big deal. She lift her hands and places them gently on Bethany’s shoulders. “Hey,” she soothes, and leans forward to press a light kiss on Bethany’s forehead. “I’m alright, Bethy. I’m sorry that I worried you.”

Bethany sighs and shakes her head. She gives one final warning of _don’t do it again_ before turning back to the house. Hawke follows solemnly, glancing down at her phone as she does. There are four missed calls – one from Isabela and the other three from Bethany – and seven texts from various people. She sighs and tucks her phone in her pocket. She honestly does feel awful. Maker only knows what had gone through Bethany’s head when Hawke hadn’t answered her phone.

“Oh! Hawke! You’re back, and alive! Thank goodness!” Merrill frets, running to Hawke as soon as she’s through the door. Hawke rolls her eyes and nods – _yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry for worrying you. Yes, I’ll be more careful next time._

When everyone is finished worrying over Hawke, Isabela suggests finishing the documentary they had been watching the night before. Everyone agrees and moves to gather in the front room as they had the night before. This time, Hawke curls up in the armchair furthest from the television. She doesn’t have any desire to watch the documentary, but figures she owes everyone for worrying them, so she stays.

Isabela starts the show and Hawke kicks back in her chair, scrolling absent-mindedly through her phone. About ten minutes into the first episode, her phone vibrates, indicating a message.

**From: Fenris, 9:42 AM  
** _Everything alright?_

Hawke glances up. Fenris is staring at the television, seemingly engrossed in the documentary. Hawke notices his phone laying facedown in his lap, though, hidden under the palm of his hand.

**To: Fenris, 9:43 AM  
** _Yes, I’m alright. Upset that I worried everyone, is all. But they’re all fine now, so I am, too._

Hawke lets her eyes move up to find Fenris again. She watches as his attention is drawn to his phone – watches as his brow furrows slightly when he reads her message. Then, as if he can tell she’s watching him, he looks up. Green eyes meet silver, and Hawke once again has to fight the familiarity of the feeling.

Something must change in her expression, because out of nowhere, a smile spreads across Fenris’s face. Hawke remembers a line from the song they had listened to on their way back here and the lyric makes her heart flutter.

_People think he don’t look well, but all he needs, from what I can tell, is someone to help wash away all the paint from his purple hands before it’s too late._

_Maybe,_ Hawke thinks, and looks down when she receives another message.

**From: Fenris, 9:46 AM  
** _Thanks for this morning, Hawke. I must confess, I was nervous about telling you so much, but I thought you should know. Thank you for listening._

Hawke smiles.

_Maybe I can help him be happy, after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I actually remembered to jot down what I wanted to talk about in my notes this time. It's only a couple things, but I feel like talking about them so here I go.
> 
> First off, let's talk about American diners. Like, especially in my area, diners are the shit. I live in a tiny area, where everyone knows everyone, and any time you walk into a diner, it just feels like home. You know all the waiters and waitresses, and everyone there is just family. That's how I'm imagining Dulci's diner and, quite honestly, I'm imagining it like one of my favorite places to go. Everyone there think they're my mom and they like to offer me unwarranted life advice ALL THE TIME. But, I love them, and I love the diner, so I'm not complaining.
> 
> Also, it may not be weird, but just in case it is, most diners (in this area, at least) just assume everyone is a coffee drinker. When you walk into any diner early in the morning, they have coffee cups at every chair/spot on the table, face down so that they don't gather dust. It's weirder for them to have to take the cups away than to bring you a cup of coffee. But, like Hawke, only a select few of my friends actually drink coffee. Everyone else drinks tea and it makes me sad because coffee is my lifeblood.
> 
> As for Hawke's disinterest in Making a Murderer, she's pretty much me lol. That stupid documentary got HUGE in my area, and everyone ate that shit up. But, I was pretty much done after two episodes. I like documentaries, and I know a lot of them are biased, but this one was so obviously fake (to me) that I hated actually watching it. My husband was one of the people that ate it up, and there were plenty of arguments in my house as he watched it hahaha. But it's all good now. I don't as vehemently hate the show as I used to.
> 
> Anyway, I love you all, and please leave comments if you're enjoying the story. I should have the next chapter up here in the next few days. Kudos are appreciated, as well, if you don't want to leave a comment <3
> 
> Work title and song mentioned in this chapter is "Broken" by Norah Jones and can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31AxHeYEDxc
> 
> Also, if you're not already, you should follow me on tumblr! URL: http://lunaahawke.tumblr.com/


	5. Dark Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning this chapter for drug abuse/slight rape scene.
> 
> This chapter was hard for me to write. Proceed with caution.

_“Where’s your brother?”_

_Hawke opens her eyes and winces at the light coming through the window. She holds up a hand, trying to block it, but it doesn’t work. She groans and lays her arm across her eyes to shield herself. When she speaks, her voice is hoarse, “How the fuck should I know?”_

_Leandra takes in a breath and Hawke hears her foot start to tap against the hardwood. She says, “You should know because you were the one watching him!”_

_Hawke lifts her arm slightly and turns to look at Leandra. The movement takes a monumental effort. Her head feels like it’s about to explode and her arm is as heavy as lead. “Isn’t that your job?”_

_Hawke doesn’t know why she says it, doesn’t know what makes her think saying anything at this point would be beneficial – but, she says it, anyway, and immediately regrets it._

_As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Leandra gasps. Her eyes glance down and she looks away to hide the tears that prick her eyes. When she turns her face back to Hawke, her eyes are hard as steel and glisten with wet tears. Her voice is low when she says, “I don’t know who you think you are, but you have no right to speak to me that way. I am your mother –“_

_Hawke scoffs, and turns her head back so she can lay her arm back across her eyes. “Oh? Is that what they call alcoholics these days?”_

_“Get out,” Leandra commands, her voice empty, but strong._

_Hawke sits up and glares at Leandra. The world is spinning, it’s hard to focus, but she stands her ground – up until her hands begin to shake. When was the last time she had a hit? Obviously, she was still a little high, but –_

_“Get out,” Leandra says again, moving aside to make room for Hawke in the doorway._

_So Hawke listens. She gets up and leaves._

_As soon as she’s out of the house, she stumbles a bit at the shock of sunlight. She still has her jacket on from the night before, so she lifts the hood and pulls it as far over her face as she can. She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and shoots a text to Martin –_ Hey, it’s me. Can you meet me somewhere?

_The reply is immediate –_ I’m at Castillon’s. We have some people over. Come on by.

_Hawke shoves her phone in her pocket and makes her way across town. She does her best to tie her hair back and get herself back to some sense of normalcy, but her hands are still shaking and her withdrawal is only getting worse. By the time she reaches Castillon’s, she’s clutching her arms tightly around her body to prevent herself from falling over. She knocks – once, twice, three times – and Martin answers the door within seconds._

_“Fuck, Hawke, you don’t look good,” he says._

_“I’m not feelin’ too good,” Hawke mutters._

_“Come on in,” Martin says, stepping aside. “I’ll get you fixed up.”_

_Hawke steps inside and follows Martin to the back of the house. Castillon is in the sitting room with three of his contacts, talking business. Martin and Hawke both decide it’s better to avoid the room at all costs, so they immediately head down into the basement._

_The basement is a singular, large room that Castillon usually uses for entertainment. It’s sparsely furnished – only a couple of armchairs in front of a large, brown-stone fireplace; a small side table between them – and big enough to hold a large crowd of people, if needed. There’s a door in the back of the room that looks like any normal wooden door, aside from the keypad lock on the handle. Behind the door is a small closet that holds an even smaller safe that’s filled to the brim with an assortment of pills and…other things. Hawke knows because she’s helped Castillon on occasion._

_“What do you want today, Miss Hawke?” Martin asks as he walks to the door, already entering the code._

_“The usual,” Hawke says as she takes a seat in one of the armchairs._

_Martin hums in agreement and takes a bottle of pills from the safe. He gets two from the bottle and puts it back into the safe. He comes back out of the closet, making sure to lock everything behind him, and takes the seat across from Hawke. He holds out his hand, offering the two small, pink pills to her. Hawke takes them, thanking him, and turns to the side table. She places the pills on the small mirror that they leave on the table and taps her pocket, looking for her razor, only to remember that she had taken it out before laying down last night and had forgotten to put it back in her pocket. She looks at Martin to ask him for one, only to see that he’s already holding one out for her. She thanks him, and gets to work cutting the pills into fine powder._

_As she works, Martin lights a cigarette. He inhales, deeply, and exhales away from where Hawke is sitting. He glances her way, watching her work for a while before he finally asks, “So what happened?”_

_Hawke shakes her head, not wanting to talk yet. She finishes cutting the pills and fishes her straw from her pocket. She leans down and snorts the line of powder quickly. It burns on its way in, but Hawke doesn’t mind. She won’t feel her face soon anyway. Martin waits, patiently, until she’s finished. When she does, she says, “My fucking mom was drunk again when I came home last night. Apparently, she had thought I was home to watch the twins, even though I had told her I was going out. She came in this morning, and apparently Carver is gone off somewhere. She came in yelling this morning.”_

_“Well, first off, it’s not morning – it’s about three in the afternoon. And second off, have you found your brother?”_

_Hawke shakes her head. “No, but I mean, that’s_ not _my responsibility. I’ve been taking care of Carver and Bethany since Dad died. It’s not my fucking job to hold this family together.”_

_Martin sighs and takes another drag from his cigarette. “Listen, Hawke, I like you, right? But don’t start actin’ like a spoiled brat because you’re tired. Family is family, and your brother is missing. You don’t care in the slightest?”_

_Hawke bristles. “Of course I care, Martin. But the boy is fifteen and can take care of himself. I was taking care of myself and twin kids when I was his age.”_

_Martin shakes his head and says, “Whatever you say, princess. You doin’ okay, though? What got you lookin’ so rough this mornin’?”_

_Hawke shrugs and lays her head back against the chair. The pills were starting to hit, hard. Her hands are finally starting to steady, but it wasn’t enough. She could still feel and she didn’t want to feel. She wanted to be numb. She didn’t want to think. She says, “It doesn’t matter. I want another dose, though. I’ll pay.”_

_Martin eyes her and shakes his head. “I don’t think so, princess. You were fucked when you came in here earlier, and I gave you what you needed to take the edge off. You ain’t gettin’ more.”_

_Hawke groans and leans across the armchair toward him, “Please, Martin, I –“_

_Martin shakes his head and stands. “Nu-uh, no way. I’m not gonna have you overdosin’ on my watch.”_

_Hawke rolls her eyes and lays her head back against the armchair. If simply asking wasn’t going to work, she was going to have to use the one thing Martin was weak against – her body._

_Slowly, Hawke lets her body relax, and she can tell Martin has already noticed the change in tension. His eyes travel from hers to her lips, which she bites gently. She puts her hand on her thigh, slowly trailing her hand up her inner thigh. She can still feel. She doesn’t want to feel. She touches herself – there – and whispers, “You can touch me if you want, Martin. You want to, don’t you?”_

_Martin swallows and shakes his head again. “You know I do, but Hawke, I already –“_

_“Give them to her, Martin,” Castillon’s voice says from the doorway._

_Hawke’s hand flies from her body to the armchair to help push herself up into a sitting position. Martin whips around as well and says, “But sir – “_

_“The girl wants more, give her more. Let’s see how tough our Hawke really is.”_

_Hawke doesn’t like the way his voice sounds, but she still doesn’t want to feel. She ignores the warning bells in her head and watches as Martin walks over to the door. As he unlocks it to get the pills, Castillon walks over and kneels in front of Hawke. He spreads her legs and positions his body between them, leaning forward so that his face is inches from hers. “You want more, Hawke?”_

_Hawke nods, pathetically. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to sleep with Castillon, or Martin, in order to get her fix. She needs it – she can still feel, she doesn’t want to feel. Castillon smiles and sets his hand on her knee, then moves his eyes back to hers. His green eyes are cold and calculating. He starts moving his hand up her thigh as Martin walks back out and goes to hand Hawke whatever pill he had grabbed. Castillon stops him and reaches up to grab Hawke’s chin as she turns to look at what pill he has. Martin steps forward and places the pill (or pills, Hawke doesn’t know) in Castillon’s hand. Castillon brings his hand back over, slowly, and says, “Open your mouth, Hawke.”_

_Hawke does as she’s told and Castillon reaches forward to place the pill on her tongue. She still can’t see it, can’t see what he’s giving her, but she doesn’t care. The taste is putrid, but she doesn’t dare argue with Cas when he’s in this kind of mood. She swallows the pill and he nods approvingly. “Good girl,” he says, then moves the hand that’s on her chin to her throat. His fingers are thick, and warm, but they’re soft. He lets his thumb trail her jaw line before his hand travels further down to her shoulder. He leans forward again and says, “Now, I want you to show my how grateful you are to me for letting you have more.”_

_Hawke obeys and leans forward, pressing her lips to his. The kiss starts soft, but is quickly consumed by a fiery need. Hawke hears Martin clear his throat and begin to walk away, but Castillon pulls away and says, “Martin, how about you stay and watch? I have a feeling this will be interesting.”_

_Hawke moves her eyes to Martin and sees brief fear in his face. He knows there’s something up with Castillon, and Hawke feels a pit opening up in her stomach. What had he just given her? She doesn’t think Martin would have put her in any danger, but with the way Castillon is being –_

_Suddenly, he’s kissing her again, and Hawke stops thinking. He wraps his arms around her body and pulls her out of the chair so that she sits, straddling him. His kisses are wet, and sloppy, and Hawke feels a bit of drool drip down her chin. She ignores it, and keeps kissing him. He slides his hands up her back and lets one reach up to her hair tie. He pulls the hair tie out, letting her hair fall around her. He lets one hand slide back down her body to her ass, and tangles the other in her hair. A couple seconds pass, and he suddenly pushes her ass forward, making her grind against him. She can already feel him hardening under his jeans. He pushes her forward again and, this time, pulls her hair hard enough that she tilts her head back and lets out a yelp. He growls and grinds against her again, then moves so that he can lay her on the ground. He lets go of her hair and trails his hand down her neck, her chest, her stomach, until he finally reaches the end of her shirt._

_“Take it off,” he commands, and Hawke does as she’s told._

_He sits back momentarily, admiring her body. Even though she’s still mostly clothed, she feels naked. She wants to cover herself, but knows that if she moves now, Castillon won’t be happy. Besides, the pill is finally starting to hit, and she’s starting to find that she doesn’t really care._

_Castillon smiles a snake-like smile. “Isn’t she beautiful, Martin?”_

_“Of course, sir,” Martin says, his voice husky. Hawke risks a glance to him and can see that his expression has darkened. Whatever trepidation he had felt before is gone._

_“Don’t you want to fuck her?” Castillon says, and fear spikes in Hawke’s chest._

_Martin is quiet for what seems like an eternity. Then, finally, “Yes.”_

_Castillon moves, calling Hawke’s attention back to him. The pill is starting to hit hard now, and her vision blurs. She feels pressure on her legs and glances down to see that Castillon is running his hand up her thigh again. She can’t feel it, and suddenly her fear is melting away because this is what she wanted – to not feel. Castillon reaches the button to her jeans and takes them off her. She doesn’t care, she can’t feel it anyway. She can’t feel his touch, not even when he’s taking off her undergarments. Her vision is going black now and she knows that’s not normal, but she doesn’t care. What was she mad about again? She can’t remember. She feels her legs move apart, sees that somehow Castillon has removed his clothes without her noticing. Her vision is going black though, so she doesn’t see him climb back on top of her, but feels the pressure of him entering her. She can’t hear anymore, either. She can’t see, or hear, or smell. Maybe she’s dying, but she doesn’t care. She can’t feel, and that’s all she wanted, that’s all –_

The sound of her alarm wakes her. Hawke opens her eyes, moves to turn off her alarm, and lays still. She remains in the quiet dark for a long while, lost in her thoughts. Why had she dreamt of that memory? Why now? She hadn’t had the urge to use in so long. She hadn’t seen Castillon or Martin in years. So why –

Her phone ringing interrupts her thoughts. She glances at the caller ID and sees that it’s her mother calling. She answers. “Hello?”

“Luna, darling!” Her voice is chipper, and Hawke winces. “I’m sorry it’s so early, dear. I just have a few questions for you since Thanksgiving is coming up.”

“No, it’s okay, Mom,” Hawke says, and sits up to try to wake up. She stretches and lets out a long yawn before saying, “What’s up?”

“I was just wondering who all will be here this year. We’re going to be hosting at our house this year, so I hope you have some friends coming! We have a lot of empty rooms to fill.”

“I don’t know, Mom, I haven’t really asked anyone yet. I’m sorry. I will tonight.”

When Leandra speaks, there’s an edge of disappointment in her voice, but she covers it nicely with her usual chipper tone. “That’s alright, dear. Just let me know. You uncle Gamlen and Carver will be coming, but I’ll make sure they’re on their best behavior.”

Hawke grins slightly and says, “Thanks.”

Leandra is quiet for a moment. Hawke is about to start hanging up before she hears Leandra ask, “Is everything alright, Luna?”

Hawke is quiet for a moment. She thinks back on her dream, on the events that had happened leading up to her almost dying so soon after her father. She feels tears well in her eyes and she sniffs. She says, “I just have a lot on my mind. Did I – did I ever tell you I was sorry?”

“For what, dear?”

“For.. Well, for everything. For blaming you for how I turned out those couple years. For completely turning my back on my family. For almost dying. I mean – you name it,” Hawke says with a sarcastic laugh, her tears flowing freely now.

Leandra sighs and says, “Oh, honey, I wish I could be there to hold you. You know you’ve apologized, countless times, and every time I’ve told you that there’s no need. You’re my daughter, and I didn’t treat you fairly after your father died. You had every right to be angry with me, every right to react the way you did. I should be the one apologizing.”

“No, Mom,” Hawke says firmly. “We were all hurting and we all did shitty things. You didn’t deserve how I treated you, and you didn’t deserve to live through the fear of your daughter possibly dying.”

“It’s alright, Luna,” Leandra says, her tone sad, but final.

Hawke sighs, and wipes at her cheeks. She says, “I love you, Mom.”

“And I love you, sunshine,” Leandra says, then pauses. “So do you have any plans tonight?”

“Err – yeah, actually. We were all going out to the Hanged Man. We went to Isabela’s last weekend and made a few new friends. We’re taking them out tonight to introduce them to our spot.”

Leandra laughs and says, “Good. I’m glad you’re not going to be alone. Anyway, I’ll let you go. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

Hawke hangs up and smiles. A lot has changed with their relationship over the years, but one thing had always been true – Leandra Hawke loved her children. It took some time, but soon after Hawke moved out, Leandra had become her best friend. She talked to her mother about everything – from school, to boys, to past mistakes. Hawke was fortunate to have Leandra as a mother.

With some effort, Hawke finally gets out of bed and gets ready. Petrice had stayed in a friend’s room last night, so Hawke didn’t have to deal with her this morning. She showers; puts on her signature jeans, grey tank top, and a black cardigan; and finishes her routine with makeup. She has some time, so she actually puts everything on, for once – eye shadow, liner, contour, and lipstick. She decides to go dark and puts on heavy liner and a deep, crimson lipstick. The black around her eyes makes their silver color pop.

When she gets her makeup the way she wants it, she heads to class.

The day goes by relatively smooth. She has three classes, each an hour and a half, that are actually pretty engaging this time around. She meets with anders for lunch at the college’s dining hall between her second and third class. He tells her that he’s seeing someone again, and they gossip about said person. He won’t tell her a name, though, and only keeps saying _you’ll find out eventually._

After her final class, she stops by her dorm to drop off her school bag before heading to the Hanged Man. They had all agreed to meet around 5, and it was only 4, but chances were someone was already there. Hawke decides to walk “in case” she drinks too much (in reality, she always drinks too much when they go to the Hanged Man, even when she doesn’t mean to).

The walk is quiet, and cold. Halloween decorations hang all over Kirkwall, reminding Hawke that she _still_ hasn’t gotten a costume for the Hanged Man’s Halloween party. It was two weeks away, and getting nearer faster than Hawke would like. She usually loves Halloween, and is actually excited for the party, but she’s usually ready for Halloween a month in advance. The fact that it was two weeks away and she didn’t even have an idea of what she wanted to be was stressing her out.

It only takes her ten minutes to finally get to her destination. When she enters the Hanged Man, she scans the room, looking for someone she knows. It’s not particularly crowded yet, but the lighting in here was dingy, even on a good night, and it made it hard to find people. Tonight is no exception, but after she walks forward a few paces, she sees Isabela sitting at the bar. Hawke rolls her eyes because _of course Isabela would already be here_ and walks over to her.

“Hawke!” Isabela shouts, throwing her arms in the air upon seeing her friend. “It’s so good to see you! I feel like I hardly even saw you last weekend.”

Hawke smiles and kisses Bela on the cheek when she reaches her. She orders a beer, then turns to Isabela and says, “I still had fun, though. Sorry I missed so much of your party.”

Isabela smiles and pats Hawke’s knee. “I’ll forgive you.”

The way she says it makes Hawke nervous. She shoots a glance at Isabela as Corff walks over and sets down her beer. She thanks him, then turns back to Isabela. “If…?”

“If you don’t get mad at me for banging your sister.”

Hawke nearly chokes on her beer.

“You – what? You and Bethany? What – “ Hawke pauses a moment, then realizes like a slap in the face. “You were who she was hooking up with the other morning!”

Isabela laughs and says, “Which one?”

Hawke sputters. “Which one?! You mean this has been happening for a while? How long?”

Isabela taps her chin, thinking back. She looks down at her hand and starts counting her fingers – _1, 2, 3 –_ then looks back to Hawke. “Four months?”

“Months?” Hawke repeats, her tone flat. Protectiveness rears its ugly head, and Hawke has to fight wanting to punch Isabela. She loves Isabela but to find out her and Bethany have been a thing – for four _months_ – and her not know really bothers her.

“Now, now, darling,” Isabela soothes, patting Hawke’s knee again. “You said you wouldn’t get mad.”

Hawke takes a long drink of her beer before she says. “I never said that, _you_ did.”

“But remember,” Isabela says, poking Hawke’s shoulder. “I’m upset with you too. So I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

Hawke shoots one final glare Isabela’s way, but rolls her eyes and says, “Fine.”

Isabela laughs and kisses Hawke’s cheek. “I knew you’d be okay with it.”

They fall into easy conversation. Hawke asks Isabela about how modeling is going, Isabela tells her it’s fine, then asks about Hawke’s schooling. Hawke wants to ask more about Isabela and Bethany, but figures she’ll wait until she can talk to Bethany about it.

People start showing up around four thirty. Varric is first, followed closely by Aveline – Ms. Police Captain that, for some reason, still hangs out with Hawke and her band of misfits even after her promotion. Merrill and Bethany walk in together. Hawke sees them first and she watches how Bethany scans the room, looking for the group. Her eyes find Hawke’s first and she grins. She nudges Merrill and points in the group’s direction, then lets her eyes find Isabela. Hawke watches as her grin grows into a smile – something warm, and kind, and so filled with love that Hawke almost feels lonely. Hawke glances over at Isabela and sees Bela giving Bethany the same smile. How had she not seen it before? They may not be talking love yet, but Hawke can tell in the way that they look at each other that there’s something similar there.

Hawke realizes she has nothing to worry about, and she smiles.

Bethany and Merrill sit at the table, Bethany between Isabela and Varric, Merrill between Hawke and Aveline. Anders walks in a few minutes later and sits between Varric and Aveline, across from Hawke. Fenris and Sebastian are the last two to walk in, exactly at 5, and take their seats next to each other, Fenris next to Hawke and Sebastian next to him.

“Hi,” Hawke says as Fenris sits.

He smiles. “Hello, Hawke.”

Why does something so simple as her name on his lips send thrills through her?

She stuffs the feeling and turns to the group. She waits for everyone to get their drinks. When everyone has something, Hawke raises her voice and says, “Alright, everyone, I have a question.” Everyone at the table quiets, and looks her way. She continues, “As you all know, the Hawke family likes to get together on holidays and Thanksgiving is coming up. My mother is going to host it at our family home back in Lothering and would like to invite you all to join. So who’s coming? I need a head count.”

“I can’t,” Aveline says. “I would love to, but I have to work. Tell your mother I said thanks for the invite and that I’ll come visit soon.”

“Unfortunately, I have plans of my own, as well,” Varric says.

“I would love to come, Hawke! Your mother always makes the best food,” Merrill chirps.

Isabela winks at Hawke. “You know I’m in.”

Anders takes a drink before answering. “I have plans as well. Sorry, Hawke.”

Hawke smiles, “It’s alright. There’s always Christmas, or the New Year. You know my mom likes doing something for _everything_. Maybe then you can bring _you know who_.”

Anders blushes, and before Isabela can set in on him, Hawke turns to Fenris and Sebastian. “How about you two? It’s alright if you don’t want to. I know you have your family back in Starkhaven, Sebastian.”

Hawke notices Fenris look to Sebastian, unsure. Sebastian laughs and says, “I may have family in Starkhaven, but they’re not much for celebrating holidays. I’ll join, if you’ll have me.”

Hawke smiles, “I’d love to.”

She turns to Fenris, a question in her eyes. He smiles at her. “I will go, if you don’t mind.”

Hawke has to fight the excitement she feels when he agrees. She’s happy everyone else is going, but she realizes that if Fenris had said he couldn’t go, nobody else would have mattered. The break for Thanksgiving was always a week long, and Hawke always spent the entire week in Lothering. That meant, if Fenris went, that they would have an entire week to just hang out. No school, no obligations.

Hawke can’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this chapter was hard. Thank you for bearing with me. I promise the next chapter will be better aka more happy. 
> 
> Also, before anyone asks, I know that I like to say that this story closely resembles my life and, in a lot of ways, it does. I'm putting a lot of myself out there, including my struggle with addiction. I was addicted to pain killers (oxycodone, to be exact, which is what Hawke is taking in this chapter) and would basically do anything to get them. So as hard as this chapter was to write, and probably read, I felt it important to include because, well, it's something people actually do. And sometimes they feel like people don't understand them. But I'm here to tell you that I do. I understand. And if you ever, EVER need anyone to talk to, about anything, please don't hesitate to talk to me. I'm sorry if this chapter was triggering, but there's a purpose behind the chapter eventually, I promise. Please bear with me.
> 
> Once again, I love you all, and comments/kudos are appreciated. Please let me know what you think! Keep sending your love.
> 
> Work title/song mentioned in this chapter is "Dark Times" by the Weeknd and can be found here: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x33gie9
> 
> Also, if you're not already, you should follow me on tumblr! URL: http://lunaahawke.tumblr.com/


	6. Under the Bridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a panic attack/dealing with addiction again this chapter.

“Can you tell me why we _both_ waited until the weekend before Halloween to go costume shopping?”

Hawke groans at her sister’s comment and casts her eyes around the overly-crowded Halloween store. This is why Hawke absolutely _despised_ waiting until last minute for a costume. She hated crowds of people more than anything. It doesn’t even matter that she and Bethany were here shopping for Hawke’s favorite holiday – they were crammed into narrow aisles with too many people, and Hawke wants to punch everyone. “If I hear one more screaming child, I’m gonna kill myself.”

“A bit dramatic,” Bethany says as she picks a costume off the rack to inspect its contents. “But I agree, nevertheless.”

They share a grin and Hawke resumes looking for a costume.

“So,” Bethany starts. “That Fenris guy is quite the looker, isn’t he?”

Hawke shrugs and grabs a costume from the rack. After a few seconds of debate, she decides it’s too gaudy and returns it to its place. She says, “He is.”

“Are you interested in him?” Bethany asks, her tone curious.

Hawke smiles and considers what she wants to say. She couldn’t deny her interest in him – anyone could tell from a hundred mile distance that she was definitely interested in him – but something didn’t feel right. She couldn’t allow herself to be too interested. Not yet. Finally, she answers, “Somewhat. I’d rather just focus on other things right now, though. I don’t have time for relationships.”

“Uhhuh,” Bethany teases, a knowing smile on her face.

Hawke rolls her eyes and nudges Bethany. “Speaking of relationships, you and Isabela?”

Bethany’s cheeks darken and her smile instantly dissipates. She very-pointedly starts looking for a costume again and doesn’t answer for a while. When she does, Hawke is caught off-guard. “Are you mad?”

Hawke turns to Bethany, her brows knitting together in confusion. “Mad? Why would I be?”

Bethany shrugs and mumbles, “I don’t know. Isabela was your friend initially. Still is. I didn’t want things to be awkward.”

Hawke laughs and shakes her head. “Beth, I’m not mad. A little protective of you, of course, because I know how Isabela can be with relationships – I’ve seen her go through enough. But, no, I’m not angry. Not right now, at least.”

It’s Bethany’s turn to look confused. “Not right now? What is that supposed to mean?”

Hawke shrugs and says, her tone cocky, “It means that if Miss Isabela hurts my little sister, she’s gonna have hell to pay.”

Bethany rolls her eyes and starts walking to the end of the aisle. “Whatever you say, Big Sister.”

Hawke smiles and follows after Bethany. They go to a different section of the store, one that seems to have more costumes that match their taste. Sure enough, after only a few tries, Hawke finds a steampunk costume that looks like it’s going to look _amazing_ on her. Bethany eventually finds a pirate costume that she likes.

“It definitely looks like something you would wear,” Hawke says with a smile.

Bethany smiles back and examines the costume again. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Hawke nods in agreement. “Let’s go try them on.”

When they turn the corner near the fitting rooms, they almost walk right into a man and his young child. Bethany stops and grabs Hawke, stopping her from running into the father. She mutters an apology, then peers around the man to see that there’s a line nearly twenty people long – all waiting to try on their costumes.

Hawke huffs and crosses her arms over her chest, awkwardly adjusting her bagged costume against her body. “Damn this store and their no-return policy. Otherwise, I’d just buy the costume and exchange it if I didn’t like it.”

Bethany sighs, looking forlornly at the people gathered. It didn’t help that most of them were children that would get endlessly distracted and probably take forever.

Hawke says, “Well, since we’re probably going to be here a while, I’m just gonna ask – how long have you and Isabela been a thing?”

Bethany’s cheeks darken again, though not as intensely this time. She looks away, thinks for a moment. Hawke watches her expression grow fond as she thinks back on her time with Isabela. _Good. As long as she’s happy._ Bethany says, “I don’t know, a couple months? At first we were both afraid because we didn’t want to upset you. Eventually, though, we just couldn’t hide our attraction and we hooked up. Then we kept meeting, and it just became a regular thing.”

Hawke can’t help the growing concern she feels in the pit of her stomach. When she speaks, she makes her tone as nonchalant as possible. “So you’re just hooking up? It’s nothing serious?”

Bethany shrugs. “As of yet, no. I mean, it’s definitely more than just physical attraction, but neither of us are looking for anything official yet.” She’s quiet for a moment, then says, “I don’t know. Honestly, it’s really confusing, but I don’t really think about it. It just _is_ you know. It’s this thing, it’s just there, and we both acknowledge it, but we don’t want to get too worked up about it? We care for each other, and that’s all I need right now.”

Hawke smiles. As Bethany talks, her face grows softer, and she can’t hide the smile that spreads from ear to ear. She’s happy, Hawke can tell; and that’s all that Hawke can ever ask for.

Bethany glances over and does a double take. “What?” she asks, defensive. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Hawke laughs. “You seem happy. If you’re happy, I’m happy. That’s all.”

Bethany rolls her eyes, but smiles and nudges Hawke. “I am.” She’s pauses, then takes a nervous breath before she says, “I think this is the happiest I’ve been since Dad died.”

Hawke sobers at that. Malcolm Hawke dying had shaken his family to its very core. Hawke had known happiness after, with Leto, but Bethany was right – since their dad had died, no one has been quite the same since. Hawke mumbles, “I know what you mean.”

They fall into silence for a time. Hawke watches the people around her. There’s a couple in the corner across the way, arguing about which couples costume they should buy (Batman and Robin or Luke and Leia. Hawke wants to cut in and tell them how they should _very much not_ be Luke and Leia, but holds her tongue). There’s a guy near the couple that’s concentrating so hard on the two costumes he has in his hands that he doesn’t notice the woman next to him eye him, up and down, checking him out. Hawke bites her lips and smiles at that.

She feels her phone vibrate in her back pocket and she pulls it out to check the text.

 **From: Fenris, 2:16 PM  
** _Have you found anything good yet?_

 **To: Fenris, 2:17 PM  
** _I think so, but there’s a line out the ass so I’m stuck waiting, doomed for probably the next hundred years to watch the kid in front of me pick his nose and proceed to wipe it on his dad’s jeans._

 **From: Fenris, 2:19 PM  
** _Gross. Why are children such demons?_

Hawke laughs at that and thanks the Maker that she’s not the only one that hates the little devils.

 **To: Fenris, 2:19 PM  
** _A man after my own heart. Children are such little shits._

 **From: Fenris, 2:20 PM  
** _Indeed. Any luck getting through line?_

 **To: Fenris, 2:21 PM  
** _There’s three people before me. It shouldn’t be too long now, hopefully._

 **From: Fenris, 2:22 PM  
** _Send pictures. I need ideas for what I should get._

 **To: Fenris, 2:23 PM  
** _Is that what they’re saying these days? Send pictures, I need an idea for a costume? You could just say you wanna see my beautiful face._

**From: Fenris, 2:25 PM  
** _Well, I would be lying if I tried to deny that that was my exact intention._

Hawke can’t help the smile that bursts across her face, or the giddy squeal she lets out when she reads the message. Bethany gives her a weird look, but decides it’s best not to ask. Thank goodness, because right when Hawke thinks she’s going to have to think of an excuse for her behavior, the fitting room attendant calls her forward.

Hawke tucks her phone back into her pocket without responding. The attendant leads her to a fitting room towards the back. How they had so many people in line is a complete mystery to Hawke because dear _Maker_ this fitting room is huge.

When she at last gets to her fitting room, Hawke closes the curtain and gets to work changing into her costume. When she opens the bag, she groans. _Of course I want the one with the most pieces._ She starts off simple and pulls out the leggings that come with it. They’re black and maroon striped, and fit her body well. _Off to a good start._ She pulls out the dress next and, while it’s a bit of a snug fit, she makes it work. It’s mostly the same maroon color as the stripes on her pants, the sleeves a little darker because of the velvet they’re made of. It hugs her body nicely, and _hot damn_ if the boob window didn’t make her chest look _fantastic._

Hawke is pleasantly surprised when she looks in the mirror. She completes the outfit by putting on the maroon over-skirt and throwing her hair in a loose pony. Some strands hang around her face, but her hair is mostly back, and adding the mini top hat to the look makes her smile. All in all, the costume is adorable, and fits her well enough that she decides to get it.

Before she changes back, she snaps a quick picture. In it, she has a hand on her top hat and is leaning forward slightly, a smile on her face. She gets the full costume in the picture, and is impressed all over again when she sees how good the costume looks on her. She sends the picture to Fenris, then changes back into her clothes.

When she finally exits the fitting room, Bethany is already waiting for her. She’s looking down at her phone when Hawke walks up, smiling at some message that Hawke can’t read. Being the annoying big sister that she is, Hawke pokes Bethany’s arm and asks, “What’re you smiling about?”

Bethany jumps a little and crams her phone into her pockets as she half-shouts, “Nothing!”

Hawke shakes her head and laughs. “Whatever you say, sister dearest. Ready?”

Bethany nods and they go to check out. Checking out is surprisingly quick and they’re leaving the store before they know it. Not that it mattered, really – the entire mall is just as crowded.

“Are you ready to head back?” Bethany asks.

Hawke is about to say yes, but then sees a fudge shop across the way. “First, we get chocolate. Then we can leave.”

Bethany laughs and shakes her head, but agrees.

They spend about fifteen minutes in the store, searching from one end to the other for the perfect chocolate. Hawke feels a little overwhelmed by how many choices there are, but this was her idea and she’s sticking to it. There’s just about every option in the store – from plain fudge, to caramel fudge, and even some fudge mixed with spicy peppers to give it a bit of a kick. Hawke stays as far away from that one as she can, and ends up going with a chocolate hazelnut. Bethany picks up some white chocolate, and they both leave with a cup of probably the best damn hot chocolate Hawke has ever had in her life.

As they’re heading to the mall’s outer doors to leave, Bethany stops and asks Hawke to hold her bags. “I have to run to the restroom before we leave. I’ll be right back.”

Hawke takes Bethany’s bags and hot chocolate from her, then steps over to one of the benches near the bathrooms to wait. She sets their bags on the floor and the hot chocolates next to them, then fishes her phone out of her pocket.

 **From: Fenris, 2:43 PM  
** _I.. am speechless._

Hawke laughs, then responds:

 **To: Fenris, 2:57PM  
** _Sorry for responding so late, I had to stop for chocolate. Thank you, I guess?? Is being speechless a good thing?? Now I’m worried._

 **From: Fenris, 2:59 PM  
** _It is a VERY good thing._

Hawke smiles and bites her lip. She’s so focused on thinking of a response that she doesn’t notice the person walking up to her.

When he speaks, she nearly drops her phone.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our little Hawke.”

Hawke’s head snaps up, and fear keeps her from speaking. It’s a weird thing, really, how the anxiety creeps through her body. It starts in her hands, a slight tremble in her fingers that very quickly shoots up her arms into her chest. It snakes around her heart and constricts, making it so she can’t breathe. Her next breath comes out in a shudder and she feels the fear slither into her stomach, settling there. It feels like a pit, an empty void opening in the depths of her abdomen.

She wants to run, but she knows she can’t.

“What?” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can’t think of a single thing to say to lil’ ol’ me?”

“Martin,” Hawke finally manages, shooting her eyes in the direction of the bathroom to search desperately for Bethany. When she doesn’t see her, she moves her eyes back to Martin.

He’s smiling, and Hawke wants to puke.

“When you disappeared out o’ the hospital, I was wonderin’ where you’d run off to. What brought you all the way to the Free Marches?”

Hawke swallows her fear, then whispers, “School.”

Martin shakes his head and sits on the bench next to Hawke. She doesn’t look at him, but she can smell him. He smells the exact same – like old, stale cigarettes and heavy cologne to cover his stench. The cologne threatens to suffocate Hawke. He says, “Hmm, really? What are you going to school for? Painting, like you always wanted?”

Hawke nods, and Martin’s smile widens. He pats Hawke’s leg and reaches into his pocket. As he does, he says, “Now, look, I’ve been tryin’ to turn over a new leaf recently. I’m still with Castillon, but I’m tired of doing his dirty work. Sticking only to dealin’ now, and only to those I know can handle it. So –“ he says, and finally holds out what he was digging in his pocket for. “You interested?”

Hawke’s eyes move down and her heartbeat stops. She feels her fists clench against her legs, and a new wave of nausea washes over her.

In his hand, he holds two small, round, pink pills, tucked neatly away into a small baggie.

Hawke averts her eyes and shakes her head vigorously. “No –“ she manages to choke out between strangled attempts to breathe.

Martin sighs and shakes his head. Instead of letting her be, he reaches down and places his hand – the one with the pills – on her leg. When he takes it away, he leaves the baggie there. “I’m going to let you have those,” he says. “Free o’ charge. And when you want more, you know how to find me.”

With that, he stands and walks away.

When he’s finally out of range, Hawke breaks. She takes a breath, and everything that was once stopped in her body accelerates – her breathing, the shaking in her hands. Her breathing comes in short, ragged pants, and though she’s breathing quicker, she’s not getting any air. It causes her to breathe faster and she knows, she _knows_ she needs to slow down and take one big breath, but she can’t, she can’t –

Her eyes move down to the pills, and she feels everything start to slow down. If she could only –

 _No, NO._ She screams at herself, and wraps her fist tightly around the pills so she can’t see them.

She should throw them away, right now – just walk into the bathroom and flush them down the toilet. She _knows_ she should, but still…

“Hawke? Are you alright?”

Hawke’s head snaps up again and she sees Bethany standing in front of her. When had she gotten there? Hawke didn’t know.  Instead of trying to figure it out, Hawke stands, and grabs her phone with the hand that holds the baggie of pills. She expertly hides them against her phone, and tucks them into her back pocket. _Shit, shit, shit, I need to get rid of these. Now –_

“I’m fine,” Hawke says with a smile. She picks up the bags from the ground, then the hot chocolates, and hands Bethany hers. After, she holds an arm in front of her. “Shall we?”

Bethany casts a worried look Hawke’s way, but shakes off whatever she’s feeling and leads the way.

Hawke follows and stares pointedly at her sister’s back. Her sister, so trusting and sure of Hawke’s ability to make proper decisions. They pass through the food court and when they get to the doors, Hawke hesitates. She looks to her left, and sees a trash can. She feels the pills in her back pocket like a weight, dragging her down into the earth. She should just throw them away, get rid of them, put them behind her. _Just throw them away, you stupid –_

“Hawke? What are you doing? It’s cold out, come on!”

“Coming,” Hawke replies, and passes through the doors.

Hawke feels the pills like a weight, dragging her into the earth, and she wants to puke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, but I'm so excited for this story and can't wait to get it out. I hope you all are enjoying it because it's been incredibly thrilling to write. I have so much planned, and I can't wait for you all to experience this journey with me.
> 
> Since I'm so bad at explaining clothing in detail, I have a link to the costume I was trying to describe for Hawke [here](https://www.halloweencostumes.com/women-s-victorian-steampunk-costume.html).
> 
> The next chapter is probably going to be long as hell, so it might take a while to get out. I'm going to try my hardest to have it done by the end of the weekend, otherwise it'll be out by the middle of next week (what is an update schedule, really?)
> 
> Work title and song mentioned in this chapter is "Under the Bridge" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers and can be found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9TunCtR3dQ).
> 
> As always, I thrive off your comments and love, so please keep them coming. <3


	7. One Dance

After weeks of unending chilly weather, the citizens of Kirkwall wake to a day warm enough for shorts and outdoor activities. Naturally, with the sun shining bright and beautiful in the sky, everyone is out – either exercising or just lounging around outside – otherwise enjoying the weather. Parents bring their kids to the park, teenagers loiter around church and department store parking lots, students from Kirkwall U gather in the commons area to work on projects or just hang out and enjoy their good fortune.

Hawke hates it.

It isn’t the weather she despises. On the contrary, the warmer weather is a nice change of pace that she rather enjoys herself. If she’s being completely honest, she doesn’t know what gets under her skin so badly about the weather today. All she knows is that she woke up, excited about the weather predictions, but the second she walked by her first couple just sitting outside of the dorms, she wanted to punch something. It doesn’t help that it’s a Saturday so she doesn’t have class to distract her.

Currently, she’s sitting in the shade of a maple tree at the edge of the city’s center-most park. The park is huge, with several playgrounds and a pond in its center. From Hawke’s vantage point, she has a gorgeous view of said pond. She has a sketchbook in her lap and has spent the past hour trying to get the shading for the water _just right._ Her phone vibrating in her pocket draws her attention

 **From: Mama Bear, 1:12 PM  
** _Is that you under the maple tree?_

Hawke looks up and squints against the sun. After a second of searching, she finds Aveline’s police cruiser parked on the street to her left. She stands and walks over.

“Stalker,” she accuses when she’s within earshot.

Aveline smiles. “You know me. Come for a ride with me. I haven’t seen you in a while and want to know what you’re up to.”

Hawke frowns. “I’m not in trouble, am I? You’re not just trying to lure me under false pretences to get in your vehicle so you can take me back to the station and lock me up?”

Aveline rolls her eyes and leans forward slightly to start her car again. “Just get in.”

Hawke flashes a smile and obeys, walking to the other side of the cruiser to climb in. As soon as she’s in, Aveline pulls away from the curb and start in the direction of the school.

“Are you going to be off in time for the Halloween party tonight?” Hawke asks, looking over at Aveline. Though Hawke knows she and Aveline are close friends, she still feels herself catch a breath at how intimidating Aveline looks in full-uniform. Aveline has always been a serious woman – adding a gun, taser, and handcuffs to that serious expression causes even Hawke to give pause.

“I’m actually finishing up soon,” Aveline says with a smile. “I took the early shift from three to three, but might even be off by two, given nothing happens by then. It’s been a slow day all day today. Guess the weather is too nice for anyone to want to commit felonies.”

Hawke laughs. “So you haven’t run into any trouble at all today?”

Aveline shrugs and glances down at the radio when the dispatcher comes over the airwaves to announce a need for backup somewhere on the other side of the city. When Aveline hears someone respond, she reaches over and turns down the radio so that it’s only background noise.  She glances at Hawke and says, “Nothing aside from the usual Chantry hubris. There was a funeral this morning for a Qunari that was shot in a driveby a few days ago. The Chantry showed up with their picket signs and racist remarks, so we were called in.” The radio sounds again and she pauses to listen, then continues. “Thankfully, it wasn’t the rowdy bunch, so when we asked them to leave, they at least stopped shouting. Still refused to leave, though, which pissed a lot of people off – myself included.”

“Rowdy bunch?” Hawke asks, confused. Apparently it _had_ been a while since she had seen Aveline, because she honestly had no idea what Aveline meant. The Chantry had always been a rowdy bunch to Hawke. They had something against the Qunari and made their opinions known through street violence, then picketing the funerals when they managed to do more damage than they should. Everyone in town was sick of them, but most people were too afraid to say anything. Everyone knew if you messed with one “cleric” (as the gangbangers liked to call themselves), you’d get the rest of them eventually.

Aveline sighs and starts rubbing absently at her forehead, as if the mere mention of the group was giving her a headache. She says, “The gang has a new leader – one that likes to get violent with everyone that stands in their way. Unfortunately, said leader is never with the protestors and we only know that they have a new leader through talk. We have no idea if the new leader is male or female, how old they are, or if they’re even from Kirkwall.  In the meantime, we have to deal with the lackeys causing a ruckus at every Qunari funeral these assholes decide to cause.”

When she finishes, her eyebrows are pulled together – anger contorting her features to make her look even more intimidating. Hawke swallows her anxiety over the Chantry’s growing violence – it really was worrying – and asks, “So do you have any leads on them yet at all?”

Aveline shakes her head. “No, not yet. We’re keeping our eyes open, though.” She hears something on the radio that grabs her attention and she reaches over to turn it back up. The dispatcher says that someone has placed a call about “suspicious figures” outside of Hubert’s Fine Goods – a store on the same block as Dulci’s, only 5 minutes away from where they were now. Aveline glances at Hawke before grabbing her walkie to respond to the call. When she finishes, she turns to Hawke. “Did you drive to the park earlier?”

Hawke shakes her head. “Nah, I walked.”

“Do you mind if I drop you here then? We’re close to your dorm, right?”

Hawke laughs. “Closer than we were when I was at the park, at least. That’s fine. Duty calls.”

Aveline nods once and pulls over to the curb. Hawke gathers her pack and steps out. As soon as she’s out of the cruiser, Aveline flashes her lights and pulls away. Hawke adjusts her pack on her shoulder and starts walking in the direction of the dorms. She pulls her phone out of her pocket to kill some time and sees that she has a text.

 **From: Merrill, 1:32 PM  
** _where are u?????_

 **To: Merrill, 1:36 PM  
** _I was with Aveline. Why? Where are you?_

 **From: Merrill, 1:36 PM  
** _in ur dorm room. ur roommate keeps looking at me strangely. i dont think she likes me very much._

Hawke rolls her eyes before responding.

 **To: Merrill, 1:37 PM  
** _Petrice doesn’t like anyone. I’ll be there soon._

When she’s finished responding, she tucks her phone back in her pocket and quickens her pace. Petrice is awful even on the best of days. Merrill being there without Hawke was probably driving her insane. _I mean, it would drive her mad even if I was there. It’s probably just worse since I’m not._

Hawke reaches her dorm in under ten minutes. When she walks in, Merrill is sitting on her bed reading a book. Merrill’s head snaps up when she hears the door open and she opens her mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by Petrice. “It’s about time your back. Your friend has been here, alone, for the past half hour.”

Hawke rolls her eyes. Again. “I’m sure her sitting on my bed reading has been such an inconvenient distraction for you.”

Petrice sets her pen down and looks up slowly from whatever she’s working on. She turns her head and, when her eyes meet Hawke’s, they’re empty of any kind of emotion. She smiles, coldly, and says, “It has been, actually. Now leave.”

Hawke shakes her head. “Unbelievable,” she laments. She turns her eyes to Merrill, who now looks frightened to be in the room. Hawke sighs. “Let’s just go to your apartment, Mer. I’ll grab my stuff for tonight and just get ready there, if that’s alright.”

Merrill nods and, without another word, goes to wait in the hallway for Hawke. Petrice goes back to working on whatever she was working on, otherwise willing to ignore Hawke.

At this point, Hawke knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she should absolutely, unequivocally drop her anger and let the situation settle itself. She shouldn’t say anything more to Petrice. Really, there’s no point to it all, anyway, aside from starting _another_ argument. Hawke knows she should walk away, now, and not make anything worse.

But, then again, Hawke has never been one to listen.

“What’s your problem?” she spits, glaring daggers at the back of Petrice’s perfectly-groomed blonde head.

Petrice slams her pen down and stands, turning to Hawke with an expression that is cool, calculating – almost predatory. “My _problem,_ ” she starts, speaking through clenched teeth. “Is your incessant need to find new ways to annoy me. I am _busy_ , and I do not have time for you or your merry little band of misfit friends to interrupt my work. Is that clear?”

Hawke scoffs and turns away from Petrice, going to gather what she needed for the party tonight – costume, make up, etc. She says, “We’re all busy with school, Petrice. What makes you so damn special?”

She hears Petrice laugh, and a chill runs through her spine at her roommate’s next words. “You _really_ think I’m doing school work? I wouldn’t waste my time on something so trivial. I am meant for something greater.”

Hawke takes pause then. She moves her eyes back to Petrice and really _looks_ at her for the first time in weeks. Something about her was different. She stood up straighter, and when she looked at Hawke, her eyes were fierce. Something about her sets warning bells off in Hawke’s mind, but Hawke can’t place what. Instead of pushing the subject further like she wants to, Hawke returns to gathering her things after muttering a soft, “Whatever.”

She hears Petrice chuckle and sit back down. When Hawke is finished gathering everything, she heads out into the hall to meet Merrill.

“That was quite a while,” Merrill says when Hawke steps out. They start walking in the direction of the parking lot, to Hawke’s car.

Hawke sighs. “Yeah. Roommate drama, but that’s not anything new.”

Merrill is quiet for a moment, then giggles, drawing a confused look from Hawke. She says, “You have a cute grumpy face, Hawke.”

Hawke snorts adjusts her pack on her shoulder, feeling her cheeks turn a light pink. “Stop trying to distract me from my anger.”

“I bet it’s wooorking,” Merrill teases, nudging Hawke’s shoulder with her own.

Hawke does her best to keep her grumpy look in place, but can’t help the small grin that spreads across her lips. Finally, she caves, and offers Merrill a smile. “I suppose I can’t deny it.”

They reach Hawke’s car and get in. Fortunately, Merrill lives in one of the one-bedroom apartments owned by the college, so she didn’t have to deal with the glory that was having a roommate. Hawke wanted an apartment herself, but that was a privilege left open only to students in their final year. Which means, if Hawke has to look at a positive note, she only has half a year left with the worst roommate anyone could ever ask for.

It doesn’t take them long to get to Merrill’s apartment. When they get there, Merrill helps Hawke carry her things up the two flights of stairs and, once inside, sets everything on the least-cluttered desk near the back of the room.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” Merrill says, picking up a chipped teacup and putting it in the sink in the small kitchenette. She starts walking around the apartment, putting little things away here and there, brushing soil from another desk across the room where she had been planting yet another plant to add to her collection. There’s a plethora of plants inside the small apartment – one in nearly every corner, small ones on all three of her desks, a couple hanging in each window. It causes the apartment to smell like a greenhouse, rich and thick with the smell of soil and water.

“Don’t worry about cleaning,” Hawke says, taking a seat on the couch in the middle of the room. “You know I’ve been here enough that I don’t mind. Besides, your place isn’t even that big of a mess.”

Merrill looks unconvinced, but nods and takes a seat at the other end of the couch, anyway. She folds her legs under herself and grabs the remote from the side table next to her, turning on the television and pulling up Netflix. She turns on the most recent nature documentary she had been watching – something about nugs and how they developed into the naked animals they saw today – then turns to Hawke.  “I apologize for showing up unannounced today. My being there caused quite the stir, didn’t it?”

Hawke shrugs, her eyes on the tv. “A pen dropping at the wrong moment could cause a stir in my room, Mer. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why do you keep getting paired with such an awful witch of a person?”

A humourless laugh bubbles from Hawke’s lips. “You tell me. I’ve applied to be paired differently every year, but they keep coming up with lame excuses why I can’t. It’s too late in the year, there are no available rooms, Petrice and I ‘really do match perfectly.’ You name it, I’ve heard it.”

Merrill frowns slightly, but doesn’t say anything else. She had offered to let Hawke stay with her the past few years, but the school had very specific rules about who could live where. One too many students dropping out due to a girl getting pregnant after moving in with her boyfriend had assured that rule. Now, if you were caught living anywhere besides where you were assigned, the school could either issue you a heavy fine, or they revoked your right to live on campus immediately.  _Right to a higher education, my ass._

The girls sit in relative silence the rest of the time Hawke is there. They end up finishing the nug documentary (which Merrill ends up crying over because _those precious dears, look at them_ ) and start a new one about animals native to the Western Approach. By the time the second one finishes up, it’s late enough in the evening that Hawke decides to get ready for the party. Merrill waves her off, says she’ll only need a few minutes to get ready, and starts another documentary. Hawke shrugs and gets up to grab her things, carrying them with her into Merrill’s room.

It takes Hawke about an hour and a half to get ready. On normal days, it usually doesn’t take her long because she doesn’t much care how she looks – as long as she has some light make up on and her clothes match, she’s good to go. But, on nights that she was really going out, she spent a lot of time getting her appearance just the way she wants it. Tonight is no exception.

When she’s finished, she studies herself in the long mirror leaning in the corner of the room. Hawke had to admit, she did _good_. She had styled her hair much like she had worn it in the picture she had sent to Fenris – loosely up, with a few strands hanging down in her face. She had the small top hat set to the right side of her head, the opposite side of her part. Her makeup matched her dress – some maroon-colored eyeshadow, lined with dark black liner and a deep burgundy lipstick on her lips. As for the costume itself, it fit perfectly – hugging her body in all of the right places to actually make it look like her body was at least nice to look at. For shoes, she wore heeled, black boots that came up mid-calf.

She looks stunning.

When she finally decides everything is just how she wants it, she goes out to the front room to see Merrill curled on the couch, deeply concentrated on a new documentary about the history of Thedas – more specifically, the Inquisition that had happened over 300 years prior. According to the documentary, magic had once been a prevalent force in Thedas, but it had been dangerous. The wielders of magic, mages, had been kept under tight control until, finally, they revolted against their oppressors. Apparently some time during the revolt, a Tevinter magister had tried to seize power by creating chaos, only to be stopped by what the people of the time called the Inquisition.

“I’m done in the bedroom, if you want to get ready real quick,” Hawke says.

Merrill glances her way, then does a double-take and stares at her wide-eyed. She breaks into a smile and says, “Hawke, goodness, you look beautiful!”

Hawke feels herself blush and she glances away for a moment. “Thanks.”

Merrill stands and gives Hawke another approving look before heading into the bedroom to get ready.

When the door closes behind Merrill, Hawke walks over to retrieve her phone from the table where she had left it. When she sees how many messages she has, her jaw drops. Isabela, apparently, had decided to make a group text with everyone – including people that Hawke didn’t know.

 **From: Isabela, 4:45 PM  
** _who’s ready to fkin partayyyyyyyy_

 **From: Mama Bear, 4:45 PM  
** _oh god. why a group text?_

 **From: Bethany, 4:45 PM  
** _You know I am ;) I mean what_

 **From: Isabela, 4:46 PM  
** _hell yeah!!!!!!_

 **From: Varric, 4:47 PM  
** _Now, ladies, don’t get gross in the group text. Save that for your private messages._

 **From: Varric, 4:47 PM  
** _Unless, that is, you’re wanting to give me content for my new book. Then, by all means._

 **From Isabela, 4:48 PM _  
_** _i got all the content you need right here, big boy ;)_

 **From: Bethany, 4:48 PM  
** _hey now. That’s for my eyes only._

 **From: Isabela, 4:48 PM  
** _awwwww, Bethany dear u kno u got nothing to worry about!! <3<3<3<3_

 **From: 2178849963, 4:49 PM  
** _what is happening?_

 **From: Isabela, 4:49 PM  
** _Rana, girl, are u ready to party??!!?!?!_

 **From: 2178849963, 4:50 PM  
** _always ready._

 **From: Isabela, 4:50 PM  
** _is ur lady comin??_

 **From: 2178849963, 4:50 PM  
** _that depends on what you mean by the word come. That has a couple different definitions. But, I guess in both cases, I can say yes. Yes she is ;)_

 **From: 5747298353, 4:51 PM  
** _Fenrana!!!!! Stop!_

 **From: Isabela, 4:51 PM  
** _there she is! Hi leliana!_

 **From: Bethany, 4:53 PM  
** _where is my sister?? And Merrill?? Why haven’t they responded?_

 **From: Merrill, 4:54 PM  
** _So sorry!! I was distracted! I am ready for the party! Hawke is currently getting ready now and she left her phone next to me. But yes we are both ready!!!_

 **From: Isabela, 4:55 PM  
** _there u go!! Ahhhh I’m so excited to see every1!!!!_

Hawke debates replying and even starts typing out a message, but ends up deciding against it. She doesn’t want to start another string of messages that she’d be in charge of replying to until the party. Besides, the messages had died over a half hour ago and Hawke didn’t want to be held responsible for starting them back up.

A few minutes pass and, true to her word, it only takes that long for Merrill to get ready. When she comes out, she’s dressed in a simple, short, sparkly green dress. The green matches the color of her eyes, which she decided to accent with a fine silver glitter. She smiles nervously at Hawke and reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her pointed ear. “So,” she asks, nervously. “What do you think?”

Hawke offers a reassuring smile. “I think you look amazing, Mer. That costume really suits you.”

“You think so?” Merrill asks, looking down at herself.

“I do.”

Merrill beams a smile and glances at the time. “The party is supposed to start in twenty minutes. Would you like to just go now?”

Hawke nods and stands. “Let me grab my stuff first.”

When they finally get down to the car, it’s around 5:50 – ten minutes before doors are supposed to open at the Hanged Man. Hawke scrolls through her phone and puts on a playlist she had made for parties – filled with a decent mixture of dance music. The song she first plays is one of Merrill’s favorites, and Merrill cheers excitedly and starts dancing in her seat, causing Hawke to laugh as she backs out of her parking spot.

The Hanged Man is about a half hour drive from Merrill’s apartment. They spend the entire time dancing and singing along ridiculously with the songs on the playlist. By the time they get to the Hanged Man, they’re both filled with excitement over how they plan for the night to go.

As soon as they walk into the Hanged Man, they hear a loud squeal and look up to see Isabela barreling toward them. She’s dressed in a rather skimpy white dress that didn’t leave anything to the imagination. She had a blue bandana wrapped around her dark hair and long, black boots on her feet. She looked _extremely_ tempting and if Bethany hadn’t already had a claim on Isabela, Hawke knows who she would have ended up in bed with.

“Hawke!” Isabela yells as she reaches Hawke and Merrill. She wraps her arm around Hawke’s shoulders, pulling Hawke to her. “I’m so happy to see you. Look how hot you look!”

Hawke laughs. “Look at how hot I look? Look at you! That dress is, well.. Do I even need to say anything?”

Isabela laughs and winks at Hawke. She leads the girls back to the group, where Bethany, Aveline, Varric, Anders, and two other girls that Hawke didn’t know were gathered. One girl was elven, the other human. The elf had long, black hair tied back in a loose braid and eyes the color of a cloudy day – offering a stormy look to her face that seemed to suit her. She was dressed in a simple, dark purple dress and had a pair of fake vampire teeth in her hand. The human girl had short red hair and was dressed in an outfit that mirrored the others, though her dress was black.

When they get within earshot, Isabela steps forward and says, “Hawke, Merrill, this is Fenrana and Leliana. They’re friends of mine from school.”

“If you want to call it that,” Fenrana says with an evil-looking smirk, causing Leliana to laugh and Hawke to be confused.

“What she means,” Bethany says, and something in her tone lets Hawke know that the smile on her face is very, _very_ forced. “Is that they went to the same school and that the only interaction they’ve had together was a drunken threesome at a random party.”

Fenrana rolls her eyes. “Listen, we had some fun in high school. Whatever we did is in the past. We’re strictly just friends now. Besides,” she pauses as she wraps her arm around Leliana’s waist, pressing a heated kiss to her lips. When they pull apart, Fenrana’s gaze doesn’t leave Leliana’s as she says, “That experience let me learn that I don’t like sharing.”

Leliana rolls her eyes. “You’re so possessive. Bordering on creepy, Rana.”

Anders chimes in, “That’s great and all but is there any chance we can see you both kiss again?”

Hawke pushes Anders’ shoulder. “Don’t be _that guy._ ”

Anders throws his arms into the air. “Did you see that kiss? I don’t even care that it was two girls. It could have been two guys and I would have been _just_ as happy!”

Hawke shakes her head. “You’re despicable.”

Anders is about to retort, but something behind Hawke catches his gaze. His eyes go from playful to cautious in seconds. Hawke feels her heart drop and she turns to see who’s walked in.

The instant she sees, her heart goes from her stomach to her throat.

Fenris is standing just at the entryway of the Hanged Man, his eyes scanning nervously around the crowd of faces already gathered in the pub. He’s dressed in a simple black and grey suit – black pants and shirt, grey vest, no jacket – that’s tailored to perfectly fit his body. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing the twisting pattern of tattoos on his forearms.  Hawke swallows, suddenly nervous, and feels her hands begin to shake. _He’s so fucking beautiful. I’m about to make a total ass of myself. There’s no way –_

Fenris’s eyes finally find hers and the smile he gives her takes her breath away.

Hawke swallows her nervousness and smiles back, raising her hand and waving him over. He turns to look at someone behind him and Hawke realizes that he hadn’t been standing there alone – Sebastian was with him. She hears Anders mutter behind her, “Aaaand now I’m invisible.”

“You are not. Shut up,” Hawke says, shooting a glance back at him.

Anders rolls his eyes. “I’m going to get a drink. Want anything?”

“Something mixed. I’m not feeling beer tonight.”

Anders nods and walks away as Fenris and Sebastian reach the group. Hawke smiles and says, “Hey.”

Fenris smiles. “Hey.”

Hawke clears her throat, glancing away for a moment to gather her thoughts. _Idiot, just talk to him like you usually would._ “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

Fenris shrugs and tucks the tips of his fingers into his pants pockets, looking away shyly. “I wasn’t going to, honestly. I don’t usually do holidays. I just sort of threw this on last minute when Sebastian asked if I wanted to come.” His eyes move back to Hawke’s and he says, “Though now I’m glad I did.”

Hawke smiles and leans forward, nudging his shoulder with hers. “I’m glad you did, too.”

They both laugh and Hawke has to fight the fluttering in her chest. She accepts the drink Anders gives her upon his return and they all turn their attention to Aveline. She’s telling the story of today when she had left Hawke. Apparently the “suspicious figures” she had gone to check on were really just Ferelden men. Hubert was known for despising the “Ferelden dog lords” invading Kirkwall, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to constantly try to get them into legal trouble. It was sickening.

As Aveline is finishing her story, she’s interrupted by feedback from a mic. They all wince and turn their attention to the DJ across the room. He’s fumbling awkwardly with the mic, his face beet red from embarrassment.

“Maker, I hope this isn’t like last year’s party,” Anders mutters to Hawke.

Hawke groans. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I try to block it out of my mind.”

“What happened last year?” Sebastian asks.

“Hey!” Isabela shouts from the other end of the group. “Last year is off limits to talk about!”

Everyone laughs, and Bethany chimes in, “Only because you ended up passed out before you even left the bar.”

Isabela takes a long drink from the beer in her hand and throws an arm up before saying, “Only because the party was so awful that I had to do _something_ to spice it up.”

“You certainly did that,” Anders teases.

Isabela covers her face with her free hand and lets out a loud groan. Hawke laughs. Last year, Isabela had gotten drunk enough to not only pass out, but to flash everyone her boobs before doing so. She had stood on the bar, announced that the party was a dud, and to get everyone excited she was going to do “this,” which entailed her pulling up her top and waving her assets for everyone to see. No one had let her live it down since.

“Anyway!” Isabela shouts. “I need another drink and it sounds like the music is about to start. You lovely people have fun tonight and remember – don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” Aveline teases, earning herself a friendly punch to the shoulder as Isabela walks to the bar to get a drink. Bethany follows her.

Hawke hears Merrill say something from across the group, but as soon as she hears her voice, the music begins to play. Despite his awkward start, the DJ does a good job of reining people onto the dance floor. The lights dim around the bar, until it’s so dark that you can barely see. Hawke feels a hand grab hers and she looks up to see Merrill smiling at her. Over the music, she hears Merrill shout, “Dance with me!”

Hawke laughs and asks Anders to hold her drink for her. He groans something in complaint, but Hawke doesn’t hear exactly what. She lets Merrill drag her out onto the dance floor, laughing all the while. They find a spot on the outer edge, still near their group, and begin dancing – Merrill with her back to Hawke, bodies pressed together.

They dance together for a few songs, giggling and laughing every time someone saw them together. Eventually, Isabela and Bethany joined next to them, though their dance was a bit more…sensual. _As long as they’re getting along now,_ Hawke thinks to herself.

After the third song, Hawke leans in to talk in Merrill’s ear. “I’m going to go get a drink. Let’s take a break for one?”

Merrill nods in agreement and follows her back to the group. When they get there, everyone is still standing around except for Fenrana and Leliana, who had joined Isabela and Bethany on the dance floor.

“Why aren’t you guys dancing?” Hawke yells over the music.

“I’m just here to drink!” Varric yells, holding up his pint. Aveline mimics his movement and takes a long drink from hers.

Hawke takes her drink from Anders as he says, “I’m just not feeling it tonight.”

Hawke studies him for a moment and asks, “Everything alright?”

His eyes move to Fenris, then back to Hawke before saying, “We’ll talk later.”

Hawke nods and takes a drink before turning to Fenris. “What about you?”

Fenris shrugs, and glances quickly to the dance floor where the rest of their group is gathered. “I just haven’t been asked yet.”

Hawke smiles and takes another _long_ drink before asking, “Wanna dance with me?”

There’s a moment of panic before he answers _god why did I ask him? What if he doesn’t dance? What if I make him uncomfortable? I don’t want him to –_

She gets thoroughly distracted from her thoughts when she watches his eyes move slowly down, then back up her body. She has to resist the urge to smile like an idiot at how good it feels to see him look at her like she was something to be desired. She had thought she looked good tonight, but now she actually _felt_ like she did.

Finally, Fenris nods and says, “Lead the way.”

Hawke grins and takes one more drink before handing it back to Anders. She reaches forward and stops her hand just in front of Fenris’s, giving him the power to still deny the dance. Instead, he grins and laces his fingers through hers. Hawke smiles and leads him to the dance floor. As they reach everyone else, the song changes to another – the beat now is slower, but still quick enough to make Hawke want to move. She stands in front of Fenris and backs her body into his slowly. When their bodies are touching, she moves her free hand back to find his other. He grabs her hand and lets her lead his to her waist. When his hands rest gently on her hips, she lets her body begin to move.

It doesn’t take them long to find a good rhythm and, when they do, Hawke knows that this dance is very different from the ones she did with Merrill just moments prior. There’s something.. heated between the two of them. She moves her body against Fenris’s, ignoring the whistles she gets from both Isabela and Bethany. She didn’t want to lose her nerve and if she fed into their taunts, she knew she would. Instead, she closes her eyes and leans her head back to rest on Fenris’s shoulder. She can’t see his reaction, but she definitely feels him react. His rhythm falters for a second – not enough for them to lose it entirely – and when he recovers, he moves his hands up and down Hawke’s sides. Hawke smiles and _holy shit not only am I dancing with the most attractive person I’ve ever met but he’s super into it. Holy shit –_

The song slows and, without thinking, Hawke moves with it. She turns her body so that she’s facing Fenris. Their eyes meet and, slowly, they move together, their eyes never leaving each other. Their bodies begin to move again and, this time, Hawke starts to feel heat spreading through her body.

_Tell me, I need to know – where do you wanna go? ‘Cuz if you’re down, I’ll take it slow, make you lose control._

At the end of the lyric, Fenris puts his hands back on Hawke’s waist. He squeezes gently, sending a wave of heat through Hawke’s body. She reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck. She grinds forward, momentarily throwing of their rhythm again, but she feels Fenris inhale against her neck.

This is definitely not a dance between just friends. Hawke worries for a moment that maybe Fenris will think negatively of her. They’d only known each other for a few weeks. Was this okay for him? Sure, he was enjoying it now, but that didn’t mean he would when he actually had time to sit down and think about it.

“Stop thinking, Hawke,” she hears him say in her ear. “I’m alright. Just dance with me.”

And so she does, for the rest of the night. Every two or three songs, they take a break for drinks, then go back out to dance for a few more. The heat never leaves Hawke’s body and, if anything, it grows the more they dance and the drunker she gets. She has to resist the urge towards the end to ask him to just leave with her.

Hours later, the song they’re dancing to ends, and Hawke says, “I think I need a drink. Break?”

Fenris nods and follows her back. When she takes the drink from Anders (why he was still even there, holding her drink for her, she didn’t know), his eyebrows crinkle in concern. “How drunk are you?”

“Not very – “ Hawke goes to argue, but then the room suddenly spins around her and she stumbles forward. Anders catches her and takes her drink from her, setting it on the table behind him.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Anders asks, rubbing her back gently.

Hawke shakes her head and reaches behind her for Fenris. He places his hand in hers and she twines their fingers together. She smiles and stands, letting herself stumble into his hold. She turns to him and concentrates _very hard_ on what she says, “I – I am _very_ drunk all of a shudden. Would you mind t – taking me home?”

Fenris nods and looks at Anders, who is casting a death glare in their direction. Hawke is about to step up and yell at him when she hears Fenris say, “I’m alright to drive, and I promise I won’t try anything funny. Is it alright if I just take her home?”

Anders is silent for a moment, stewing. He looks at Hawke, then back to Fenris and says, “Text me when you get her home.”

Fenris nods and glances down to Hawke. He asks, “Did you drive?”

She nods and points to her keys sitting on the table behind Anders. Fenris grabs them, then wraps his arm around her waist to steady her. Hawke likes the way their bodies fit together – so perfect, like they belong together. She’s about to blurt this out when the room suddenly spins again. She groans.

Fenris chuckles beside her as he starts leading her out. “I know. Let’s get you home.”

Hawke nods and lets him lead her out of the Hanged Man. Fortunately, the night has cooled off and the cool air against her skin makes her feel ten times better already. They get to the car easily enough and after Fenris climbs in, she tells him which dorms she lives in. He nods and starts in the direction of her dorm building.

Hawke thinks back on the night as best she can. She hadn’t thought she drank that much, but apparently she had. _I guess time flies when you’re dancing with someone who is extremely out of your league._ Without thinking, she says the thought aloud. “You know, Fenris. You – you are an _extremely_ attractive man.”

She hears him chuckle and she wants to turn her head to him, wants to see that smile on his face that she already loves so much, but the movement of the car has her head spinning again. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the seat as he says, “You’re one to talk, Hawke. You have no idea how beautiful you look tonight.”

“Mmm..” Hawke hums happily, a lazy smile spreading across her face.

They’re quiet the rest of the drive home. Hawke has a very bad habit of babbling when she’s drunk so, to avoid that, she keeps her mouth firmly shut. When they get to her dorms, he pulls into a parking spot near the door. She lets her head roll to the side so she can look at him. There’s a soft light from the lobby of the dorms shining through the front doors, casting a shadow on one side of his face and illuminating the other. She can see that he’s looking at her, his expression unreadable. Hawke lets her eyes move from his, down to his lips. She tries to stop her next words, she really does, but they come falling out of her mouth anyway.

“Kiss me.”

It comes out in a whisper and hangs, heavy in the air. She feels panic bubbling in her chest. She hadn’t meant to say it, didn’t mean to put them in such an awkward situation. _God, why am I –_

He moves, and Hawke feels her heart stop. His hand lifts from the steering wheel and it moves slowly across the space between them. He cups her face, gently, and runs his thumb across her lips. She kisses his thumb lightly and his eyes move to her lips. Hawke feels heat spread through her body again when his eyes darken. He _wants_ her. It’s written on his face, as clear as day, and maker, she wants to kiss him. She wants to feel his lips on hers, wants to know what he tastes like. She wants to invite him to her room, lay in bed with him and just –

Fenris smiles, and the smile is sad. He moves his eyes back to hers and says, softly, “You’re drunk, Hawke, and kissing you wouldn’t be right. Perhaps another time?”

He ends with a question and Hawke has to try desperately to mask the crushing disappointment she feels in her chest. She wants to kiss him, so badly, but she knows deep down that he’s right. Besides, if whatever was between them was going to actually turn into something, she wants their first kiss to be special. Now would not be a special kiss.

Hawke smiles at him, and answers, “I would like that, Fenris.”

He smiles and lets his hand fall from her face. “Now, come on,” he says, turning toward the door. “Let’s get you to your room.”

Hawke nods and waits until he walks around the car to help her. When she gets out, she stumbles a bit and he catches her. He gives her a moment to steady herself, then leads her up to her dorm room. She shows him which key on her key ring is to the room and he opens the door for her, then leads her to her bed. He helps her get settled and asks, “Do you have any waters?”

Hawke nods and points to the mini fridge across the room that she shares with Petrice. She watches Fenris walk over and retrieve a bottle, open it, then bring it back to her. He holds it out and says, “You should drink some before you go to bed.”

She agrees, and sits up on her elbows to take a few drinks. When she’s done, he takes the bottle from her, puts the lid back on, and sets it on her dresser next to her. Hawke is already starting to struggle with keeping her eyes open – Maker, they were so _heavy –_ and she hears Fenris move. She feels his fingertips against her forehead as he brushes some hair out of her face to tuck it behind her ear.

“Good night, Hawke,” he says quietly.

“G’night,” she manages to grumble.

As soon as the word leaves her mouth, she’s asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter on two hours of sleep but I've been looking forward to this chapter all week so here it is!! It's a little different than I wanted it to be, but I think the changes I made to it were good. I hope you enjoyed it as well!!
> 
> So if you haven't been able to tell yet, I live in the States. I am literally writing out some of my college experience to just show everyone how shitty the American education system can be. The rule about being assigned to a room and not being able to live ANYWHERE else was a real one at my school. They had strict boy only/girl only dorms, a 10 o'clock curfew, and you WERE NOT allowed to stay anywhere for more than a night or two. If you moved somewhere else on campus, they could either revoke your on-campus living privileges, or charge you a HEAVY fine (and, more often than not, it was the fine because WHY NOT MAKE US SUFFER FINANCIAL BURDEN MORE HAHAHA)
> 
> Also, in case you're wondering, if I'm not writing or playing video games, I'm watching either anime or documentaries. I have watched...so many...documentaries... I just love them, okay? I like learning and knowing a ton of information that's completely useless to where I live.
> 
> I feel like I wanted to talk about more but I can't remember and I forgot to write down notes this time. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask!! I would love to talk about this story with people and get feedback on how I'm doing. 
> 
> As usual, your comments and kudos give me life. If you enjoyed this chapter, let me know <3
> 
> Song that Hawke and Fenris danced to originally is the chapter title. It's "One Dance" by Drake and can be found [here](https://soundcloud.com/octobersveryown/drake-one-dance). Honestly though I told my husband that if I ever gave him a lap dance, it would be to this song because god damn, I love it so much lol.
> 
> And finally, if you're not already, you should follow me on tumblr! URL: http://lunaahawke.tumblr.com/
> 
> EDIT: As I was going back through the chapter, I realized I forgot to explain (though you probably figured it out) but Fenrana (Leliana's girlfriend) is my canon Warden!! Her name is Fenrana Tabris, goes by Rana, and she's a badass warrior that likes to punch dragons in the face. Very sexual but also really loves her girlfriend and gives her all the cuddles. I'll probably bring her in and out of the story bc I love her a lot. I'll post a picture of her on tumblr later.
> 
> Also Fenris's "costume" is based on fanart I saw of him a long time ago. I have it saved on my phone, but there's no watermark or anything on it, so I don't know who the artist is and I won't link it until I find out. Sorry guys! I'm definitely still trying to find them though, because the fanart is incredible and ugh, I love it so much.


	8. Misguided Ghosts

The sound of her phone buzzing wakes Hawke from her slumber. When she opens her eyes, it’s still dark – the only light in the room coming from her illuminated phone. She squints against the light, rubs her eyes to try to wake herself, and checks the text.

**From: Anders, 6:03 AM  
** _Text me when you wake up. Sorry if this wakes you, I’m just worried._

**To: Anders, 6:04 AM  
** _No need to worry, I’m fine. And awake now._

When she’s finished replying, she goes to set her phone down but sees she has another text. She opens it, and feels a smile spread over her face.

**From: Fenris, 2:47 AM  
** _I still have not been able to get to sleep. I know you’re asleep, though, so I don’t really know why I’m texting you. Perhaps because I am thinking of you. Anyway, you won’t read this until the morning, so for when you wake up – good morning. I hope you slept well._

**To: Fenris, 6:06 AM  
** _Good morning, handsome. I hope you got some rest. Thank you for taking care of me last night._

Hawke yawns and sets her phone down. She stretches, sits up, and moves to get out of bed. Her head spins a little and she groans, letting her head fall in her hands. She hears her phone go off again and she checks it.

**From: Anders, 6:06 AM  
** _Shit, I’m sorry. How are you feeling this morning? Want to get breakfast?_

Hawke wants to stay in bed. She wants to lay back down, curl up under her blankets, and fall back asleep. But, as usual after a night of drinking, her mind is wide awake after only getting a few hours of sleep. She sighs and responds.

**To: Anders, 6:07 AM  
** _Breakfast sounds great. Meet me at Dulci’s in an hour? I wanna shower first._

**From: Anders, 6:07 AM  
** _It’s a date._

After she checks the text, she finally gets out of bed and pads her way to the shower. Before she gets in, she puts music on her phone – slightly upbeat so she can dance along and try to get her body to wake up a bit. Petrice was gone this morning, so Hawke had no reservations about playing her music as loudly as she wanted.

Her shower doesn’t take long and, when she’s finished, she dresses in black leggings and a white tank top. She dries her hair, skips putting on makeup, grabs a light, black jacket, and slips into her white converse before heading out the door.

When at last she steps outside, the sun is just barely starting to peek over the tops of Kirkwall’s buildings. The morning is cool, but not cold, and there’s no wind to blow through Hawke’s jacket. She smiles and decides she has enough time to walk to Dulci’s before Anders gets there, so she turns in the direction of downtown and starts walking.

The streets are bare, this early in the morning on a Sunday. Most people in Kirkwall were probably still in bed, sleeping off hangovers or bad nights or both. Hawke passes a few people – a couple joggers running the opposite direction of her and a homeless man resting on a bench on the side of the road. He’s sleeping, curled tightly under a tattered blanket with his head resting on a beat-up pillow. Hawke feels her heart constrict. If there’s one thing she cares the most about, it’s helping those in need, and she feels a strong urge to do something for this man – though she knows not what. She bites her lip, ignoring the feeling, and continues walking.

When she turns the corner onto the road Dulci’s is on, she feels her phone vibrate in her jacket pocket.

**From: Fenris, 7:04 AM  
** _Handsome? Also, it’s not a problem. How are you feeling?_

**To: Fenris, 7:05 AM  
** _People would have to be blind to think you’re not good looking. I’m feeling fine. I have a bit of a headache, but I’m heading to breakfast and drinking some coffee should help._

**From: Fenris, 7:06 AM  
** _Whatever you say, Hawke. I’m glad you’re feeling better this morning._

Hawke reaches Dulci’s as she reads the last message. She glances up, sees Anders already sitting in their usual booth, and heads his way. She feels her phone vibrate again and glances down.

**From: Fenris, 7:06 AM  
** _I was going to ask you to come to breakfast with me, but since you already have plans, would you like to go to dinner with me later?_

“What are you smiling about?” Anders asks as Hawke slides into the booth across from him.

“Nothing,” Hawke says, smiling wider. “Just something Fenris said.”

Anders rolls his eyes. “Right. That guy. You know – he thought I drugged you last night.”

Hawke’s eyes snap to Anders’ and she sets her phone down. “He told you that?”

Anders nods before answering, “He got my number off your phone and texted me. Asked me how the hell you went from being perfectly fine to staggering drunk in an instant.”

Hawke sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. Suddenly her headache has escalated to more of a migraine in the span of a minute.

“I’m sorry, Anders,” Hawke says. “I wasn’t paying attention to how much I was drinking while I was dancing. I should have been more careful, especially around someone that had only previously seen me drunk once.”

Anders sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his torso back against the booth. He says, “No, it’s alright. I should have been watching, too. I was – distracted, is all.”

His hesitation to say why he was distracted piques Hawke’s interest, but Dulci takes that moment to walk up to ask for their order. “What can I get for you two this morning?”

Hawke moves her eyes to Dulci and furrows her eyebrows in concern. Dulci is smiling, but it’s not her usual million-watt smile, and her eyes are sad. She’s a little paler than usual, and there are purple bags under her eyes. Before Hawke can ask what’s wrong, Ander’s interrupts, “I’ll take a tea, and oatmeal. Cinnamon, if you have it.”

Dulci nods and turns to Hawke. As if she can tell what Hawke is about to ask, she gives a slight headshake and shoots her eyes to the bar. Hawke’s eyes follow and she sees Guillame sitting in one of the bar stools, staring pointedly at the muted television in the corner of room. His eyebrows are furrowed angrily and his face is a discolored shade of red. Apparently, the two had been arguing.

Hawke takes the hint and orders a coffee to drink and eggs and sausage to eat. Dulci heads back to the bar and hands Guillame their ticket. He sighs and gets up, going back into the kitchen and slamming the door. Dulci fliches and touches her fingertips to her lips, as if doing so will hold back the tears threatening to fall down her face.

Hawke sighs and turns her attention back to Anders. As much as she wishes she could help, she knows it’s not her place, so she doesn’t say anything further. Instead, she reminds herself that she had been wanting to ask Anders something before. “So,” she begins, drawing his attention back to her. “What were you distracted with last night?”

“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” Anders complains, putting his head in his hands. He stays quiet long enough for Dulci to bring them their drinks. When she walks away, Anders starts making his tea and avoids Hawke’s eyes as he says, “I’m seeing someone again.”

“Yes, you’ve told me that,” Hawke says. She takes a slow sip of her coffee as she gathers her thoughts. Something about whatever her friend is about to tell her is troubling him, which worries Hawke.

“I know,” Anders says, and closes his eyes. He lets out a sarcastic laugh and looks out the window, still avoiding Hawke’s gaze. “You’re just never going to believe who it is.”

Hawke’s eyebrows furrow together and she spends the amount of time it takes for her to take another drink of her coffee trying to figure out who it could possibly be. When she can’t think of anyone, she says, “Alright, I’ll bite. Who is it?”

Anders finally turns his eyes to hers then. “I’m seeing Karl.”

Hawke freezes, her coffee halfway to her lips. She feels her hands tighten around her mug, her eyes narrow accusingly at Anders. “Karl? As in…the dead one?”

Anders sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Look, I know how crazy it sounds – “

“That’s the understatement of the year.”

“ – but I swear I’m telling the truth,” he finishes, his voice almost pleading.

Hawke finishes the drink of coffee she was going to take and sets her mug down before answering. “Anders, you know why it sounds crazy. You were with the guy for years, and he _died._ You didn’t break up, he didn’t just disappear, he _died._ And now you’re telling me he’s what? Risen from the grave?”

Anders sighs heavily. “It’s.. hard to explain.”

“Do tell.”

Hawke waits for his answer. She’s quiet as he finishes making his tea – taking the bag out of his cup, adding a bit of cream and sugar, then taking a sip. When he sets his mug down, he stares into the amber-colored liquid as he says, “I don’t know where to start. You remember me telling you how crazy his parents were, right? That we had to hide the fact we were together because they would have never accepted it?”

Hawke nods. When she and Anders had originally started their short fling together, he had found it necessary to tell her about it. He had moved to Kirkwall to get away from Orlais, where he had met Karl. He had told her it was too hard to be reminded of him everywhere he went, so he had run. Hawke had been the first person he had tried anything with since Karl, and it had been over a year after his death.

Anders continues, “Well, apparently when they told me he died, it had been a lie. They had found out about our relationship. They took everything away from him – his phone, his computer, basically anything he could have used to contact me. They told me – “ Hawke watches his face contort in anger and his hands curl into tight, white-knuckled fists as he talks. “ – they told me he was dead so that I would never even attempt to contact him again.”

Hawke feels her heart break for Anders. She, of all people, knows how much Karl had meant to Anders. She tries to imagine what it would be like, in Anders’ place. To love someone, only to have them taken from you, then reappear years later.

It’s not that hard to imagine.

“So how did you two end up finding each other again?” Hawke asks.

Anders smiles then, still looking down into his tea cup. When he speaks now, his voice is soft – fond. “He found me.”

Hawke can’t help but smile at Anders’ happiness. Never once has she ever regretted them trying to be together. They both know it would have never worked out, _will_ never work out. She’s happy that they’ve remained best friends, despite everything, and it makes her happy to know that he’s happy.

She asks, “How long have you two been talking again?”

Anders finally moves his eyes back to hers, and his smile grows. “It’s been a few months. We’re different people now, so we both had to give it a while to know if we’d truly work out again. But, around two weeks ago, we finally saw each other again and when we did… we both just knew. It doesn’t matter how different we both are, we’ll always be together. Always.”

Hawke feels herself get emotional and, to avoid crying like an idiot, she takes a drink of her coffee. Which isn’t good, because with her focus on not crying, she doesn’t realize how big of a drink she takes. The coffee goes down the wrong way and she coughs an obnoxious amount back into her cup. Then keeps coughing, because she’s literally choking on her coffee.

“Oh, God, Hawke – are you alright?” Anders asks, his eyes wide in shock at her random choking fit.

“I’m – “ she coughs, “ – fine. I just – “ she coughs again. “ – just swallowed the coffee wrong.”

It takes a while for her coughing to subside, and when Dulci brings out their food, she brings out a glass of water, as well. She says, “Hawke, dear, I love you like a daughter. Please don’t die in my diner.”

Hawke groans, which triggers another small coughing fit. When she finishes, she takes a sip of water and wheezes, “I’ll be alright.”

Dulci sighs and walks away. Anders shakes his head and says, “Only you, Hawke. Only you.”

Hawke takes another sip of her water, feeling her cheeks warm.

At least she isn’t crying.

The pair are quiet while they eat. Eventually, Hawke’s coughing subsides entirely, but her throat and chest still feel tight. Her head hurts a little worse after the whole ordeal, as well. She’s going to have to take medicine when she gets home. She remembers about halfway through her meal that she had never texted Fenris back. She picks up her phone and responds.

**To: Fenris, 7:43 AM  
** _I’m sorry I’m just getting back to this, I got to Dulci’s and started talking right away. I would love to go to dinner. When do you want to meet?_

**From: Fenris, 7:44 AM  
** _Let’s meet around 6?_

**To: Fenris, 7:44 AM  
** _Sounds good. See you then!_

“You’re smiling again,” Anders observes between bites. “Fenris?”

Hawke shrugs and takes a bite of sausage before answering. “Yeah, it is. He asked me to dinner tonight.”

They fall back into silence until Hawke is nearly done with her meal. Finally, Anders speaks again, his tone flat. “What do you even see in that guy anyway?”

Hawke finishes her food and pushes her plate to the side before answering. “I mean, we’re not together. Right now, we’re just two people that find the other attractive, is all. We haven’t even known each other long enough to know if we’re going to actually like each other.”

Anders rolls his eyes. “Liar. You’re infatuated with him.”

Hawke blushes. “So? I don’t really see why it’s any of your business _who_ I’m infatuated with.”

“Hawke, the guy has face tattoos.”

“He has tattoos everywhere. He’s also a super nice guy, who has a lot going on. I don’t think either of us really have any room to judge him,” Hawke says.

Anders sighs and pushes his empty bowl of oatmeal aside. “I just don’t like him. You say he has a lot going on, and I get that; but he gives off this vibe that he’s… I don’t know. Dangerous? Like not only will he eventually crush you emotionally, but that you’re going to physically get hurt, as well.”

Hawke feels anger sprout in her chest like a hot, consuming fire. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She appreciates Anders concern, but who was he to talk about Fenris that way? He hadn’t even taken the time to get to know him.

Before she can say anything, though, Anders speaks again. “Listen, Hawke, I’m sorry. I can tell that what I said made you angry. I’m just worried, but if you think you’re going to be alright, then I’ll trust your judgment. But – “ he pauses, and narrows his eyes menacingly at her. “ – the second he hurts you, I _will_ kill him.”

Hawke’s anger deflates and she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. I really don’t think _kill_ is the right word to use here. That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“I think you deserve better, Hawke, but I’ll trust you for now.”

Hawke offers a smile, though she still feels a bit of resentment over how Anders feels about Fenris.  She knows that there’s nothing she can say to change his mind, but she really hopes that, with time, Anders will realize that Fenris isn’t the guy that he thinks he is.

Dulci comes over with their check then, and Anders pays for the both of them. When they’re finished, Anders offers to give Hawke a ride back to the dorm, but she declines. The weather is warmer now that the sun is out and she wants to enjoy it while it lasts.

On her walk home, she passes by where the homeless man had been sleeping. He’s not there anymore, and she silently curses herself for not offering to buy him breakfast or something. She sighs, and continues on to her dorm. When she gets there, Petrice still isn’t there and she still has a headache, so she decides to lay back down to take a nap.

As soon as she lays down, her phone vibrates.

**From: Fenris, 8:07 AM  
** _Alright, good. I can’t wait to see you._

Hawke smiles and bites her lip, her stomach fluttering in that weird, giddy way it does when she has a crush on someone. Aside from Anders, she hasn’t even been attracted to anyone since Leto, and she had forgotten how it felt for one simple comment to brighten her mood. It doesn’t matter how tired she is, or that she has a headache; she’s going to see Fenris tonight, and he’s excited to see her.

Hawke can’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there's not much of Fenris in this aside from his texts, but I promise I'm making up for it in the next chapter!! (Hint: it's all Fenris, and it's super adorable). 
> 
> I found out like, eight years ago, that I would never be able to live in the city because I have an over-empathetic heart. I visited Chicago for ten days between my sophomore and junior year of high school. I went for some kind of like..medical forum thing for high schoolers that were interested in the medical field. All the kids stayed in the dorms of UIC, which is in the heart of downtown Chicago, and probably like...seven of the ten days, I ended up giving my lunch to a homeless person (they provided breakfast and dinner in a cafeteria, otherwise I probably would have given those meals up, as well.) I can't stand to see people struggling, and I can't ignore compulsions to help people. If I were my Hawke when she saw the homeless person, I would have 100% invited him to breakfast with me.
> 
> This week, I work opening shifts all week, so it should be a little easier for me to get a chapter out. I'm hoping to get another out by Thursday or so. Thank you all for your patience and I can't wait to see you next chapter!
> 
> If you liked this chapter, your comments and kudos are appreciated. Seriously, I've gotten quite a bit of response on this fic and I am LIVING. You all are so freaking wonderful and I am so happy to be writing for you. <3
> 
> Song for this chapter is Misguided Ghosts by Paramore and can be found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGWeHPK3NC4).


	9. Clair de Lune

**To: Mamacita ;), 4:42 PM  
** _ok first off, when did you change your name in my phone? It took me like 5 minutes to find you and I almost had a heart attack when I didn’t see your name_

**To: Mamacita ;), 4:42 PM  
** _second off, HELP!! I HAVE AN EMERGENCY AND YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN HELP!_

**From: Mamacita ;), 4:43 PM  
** _oh hush u kno u luv the new name ;) wat’s goin’ on??????_

**To: Mamacita ;), 4:43 PM  
** _Fenris asked me to dinner and I literally have nothing to wear._

Thirty seconds after Hawke sends the message, her phone is ringing. She hesitates to answer, but gives in at the last second. “Hello?”

“What do you _mean_ Fenris asked you to dinner?” Isabela’s voice screeches at the other end of the line. “And when were you going to tell me? When are you supposed to leave? What time are you meeting? Do you even have anything I can work with? Anything even remotely – “

“Bela, Bela, chill,” Hawke interrupts before Isabela can ask a million more questions. “I don’t think this is a date or anything, but I would still like to look nice.”

Hawke hears Isabela groan, loudly. “Hawke, dear, listen to me – I don’t care if you’re labeling this a date or not – you’re going to dinner with _Fenris_ , the very man you’ve been mooning over –“

“I haven’t –“

“ – for weeks now. Plus, the way you danced with him last night? Girl, you can deny being attracted to him all you want, but I can tell you that even _I’m_ attracted to him after seeing you two dance. He is… _phew._ He is _good_ looking. Mmm..”

“Bela, focus,” Hawke grumbles, upset over how embarrassingly obvious she’s been. “Yes, I’m attracted to him, but that doesn’t mean anything. We’re just two friends, going out to dinner.”

“ _Mm-hmm,_ ” Isabela teases. “Anyway, I’m on my way, I’ll be there in like, five minutes. If that. Be ready.”

“Alright.”

“I mean it, Hawke. I’m gonna get you looking _so_ good tonight.”

“Whatever you say,” Hawke groans, but she has a smile on her face.

“Okay, I’m going now. I’ll be there soon.”

With that, she hangs up the phone. Hawke rolls her eyes and sets her phone back on the dresser, then returns to her closet. She rummages through a few articles of clothing and sighs. _How do I not have anything cute to wear?_ She takes out a few things that she thinks may be passably cute for dinner and lays them on her bed. Right when she’s about to give up finding anything, there’s a knock on the door. Hawke sighs and goes to answer.

“I brought back up,” Isabela says, pushing in with Bethany in tow.

“Honestly, Hawke,” Bethany chides as she sets her belongings down next to Hawke’s pile of potential outfits on the bed. “Of all the people to call, you didn’t think to call your sister that _actually_ is a fashion designer?”

Hawke groans and flops heavily onto her bed. “I give up, alright! All I do is wear tank tops and cardigans and jeans. I don’t have anything that stands out, you know?”

“ _Tsk, tsk,_ ” Bethany says, starting her rummage through the pile on Hawke’s bed. Isabela walks over to Hawke’s closet and starts going through everything, randomly taking out a shirt here or there.

“Nothing you have is actually _bad,_ ” Isabela observes, holding one of Hawke’s cardigans out for a few seconds before she shakes her head and puts it back into its place. “But it’s like you said, nothing really pops out.”

“Thanks,” Hawke grumbles. “I guess.”

Bethany walks over to the closet to join Isabela in her search. Hawke gets on her phone to check social media while the two discuss possible outfits. Suddenly, she hears Bethany exclaim, “Aha!”

Hawke looks up and sees Bethany holding a light-grey v-neck sweater. Bethany starts walking toward the bed and says, “You see, Hawke, it’s not that you don’t have cute clothes, it’s that you don’t know how to _combine_ them.”

Hawke watches as Bethany sorts through one of the piles she had made earlier. She pulls out a pair of black jeans and holds them under the sweater. She nods once in approval and hands the two articles of clothing to Hawke. Hawke looks at her curiously and Bethany sighs. “Well,” she says. “Go try it on.”

Hawke obeys, though she’s not sure what’s so great about the two articles of clothing. She goes in the bathroom, changes, then heads back out. The outfit _is_ cute (the pants fit snuggly, but the sweater was lose and hung to mid-bottom on Hawke), but it still just looks like something Hawke would normally wear. She turns the corner and sees Bethany and Isabela sorting through her shoes – Bethany very pointedly talking a point and Isabela nodding every now and then in agreement. Hawke clears her throat and the pair turn. Isabela grins, but Bethany’s face crinkles, scrutinizing. Hawke waits as her sister walks forward and circles her slowly. When Bethany completes her circle, she points at the end of the sweater. “Tuck it in in the front.”

Hawke does as she’s told and tucks the front of her sweater into her jeans. Bethany takes another moment to examine her again, then nods. “Now,” she says, turning back towards Hawke’s shoes. “I want you to pick what shoes you think look good with this.”

Hawke glances at her sister, then shrugs. She looks down at her outfit, thinks hard about what she thinks would look cute with her outfit, and ends up choosing a pair of tan-colored ankle boots. When she points to them, Bethany shakes her head. She walks over and picks up Hawke’s red converse. Hawke raises an eyebrow and starts to argue, “How is this –“

“You’re over thinking your outfit now. You want something cute, which you have on now, but you also have to incorporate something that’s _you_ into the outfit – otherwise, you’re just going to be uncomfortable all night,” Bethany says, handing the converse over to Hawke. “And if there’s one thing we all know about you, it’s that you love your chucks.”

Hawke looks at the shoes, then to her sister, and smiles. She walks over to her bed and slips the shoes on. They’re a little worn – some dirt discolored the sides and there was a slight fraying of the material around the ankle – but that was to be expected after years of use. Besides, Bethany was right, the shoes _fit_ her. They were home for Hawke, and helped ease some of the anxiety  she’d been feeling about the night. She turns her attention back to Bethany and she offers a warm smile. “Thanks, Beth.”

Bethany smiles. “You’re welcome. And to think, you didn’t even think to invite me here.”

Hawke groans. “I was stressed, okay? The first person that came to mind was the one person I know who could pick up a guy without even trying.”

“While that is true,” Isabela says. “I just know what men want. I know how to cater to their more.. _primal_ desires. But, I don’t think that’s what you really wanted tonight, and that is for sure what I was going to go for.”

Bethany rolls her eyes and pokes Isabela’s side. With a wink, she says, “You know more than just that.”

Isabela laughs and wraps an arm around Bethany’s waist, pulling her in close and kissing her cheek. “You bet I do.”

“Okay, gross,” Hawke says, covering her eyes. “If you two are gonna start making out, please leave first.”

She hears them both laugh and start walking toward the door. She drops her hands and walks them out. Before she closes the door, Isabela yells over her shoulder, “Good luck tonight! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Hawke rolls her eyes and finishes closing the door. She checks the time on her phone and, with fifteen minutes before she has to leave, decides to try to do something with her hair and makeup. She heads to the bathroom and examines herself in the mirror. She has to hand it to Bethany – the outfit makes her look good. The v-neck of the sweater came down just enough to show skin, but still didn’t show any cleavage. The sweater fit snuggly at the top, but hung loosely around her lower abdomen. Tucking it in the front of her jeans brought more attention to her body – which, despite her poor eating habits, had remained small-framed her entire life. _Now what to do with the rest of myself._

After a few minutes of fiddling with her hair, she decides to leave it down. It hangs in loose waves to the middle of her back, just under her shoulder blades. She goes with neutral make up – naked tones on her eyes and cheeks, dark brown matte lipstick on her lips. When she’s finished, she grabs her favorite choker from her collection of necklaces and puts it on. It’s a black chord with a silver crescent moon pendant attached. She situates the moon to rest in the hollow of her neck, examines herself again, and when she’s satisfied with how she looks, grabs her keys and leaves.

There are a few students milling about the corridors, books in their laps to study for tests they have to take tomorrow. Why teachers thought Mondays were the best days for tests is beyond Hawke.

When she’s outside, the air is cool, but still warm enough that only wearing her sweater is enough to keep her warm. She hesitates a moment, suddenly realizing that she had never asked Fenris where he wanted to meet. She takes her phone out of her pocket to call him, but suddenly hears someone clear their throat.

She turns to the sound, and her heart stops.

Fenris is standing there already, dressed in light jeans, a dark grey shirt, and a _rather fitting_ black leather jacket. His hair is a slight mess, but with the helmet he’s holding in his hand, it doesn’t surprise Hawke much. Hawke moves her eyes from the helmet to the black, sleek-looking motorcycle behind him. He follows her gaze, then chuckles and says, “I guess I forgot to mention my main mode of transportation. We don’t have to take it, if you’re worried. I can drive your car.”

Hawke shakes her head, feeling her heart pick back up in overtime. She moves her eyes back to his and says, “No, no, it’s fine. I just – wow. Uhh – well – you look _great._ Uhh –“

Fenris chuckles again and hangs his helmet on the handle of his bike. He walks over to Hawke and takes her hand in his. Hawke holds her breath as he lifts her hand to his lips and – _oh, sweet maker –_ places a gentle kiss on the tender skin there. He moves his eyes to hers and whispers, “As do you, Hawke.”

The words go straight to Hawke’s stomach. She feels warmth spread through her body, starting in her chest and making its way up to her cheeks.  She has to fight the urge to start rambling something irrelevant but _fuck_ the way he was looking at her was so fucking hot. _How the hell am I going to make it through tonight when he’s only been here for two minutes and I’m speechless?_

Fenris releases her hand and takes a step back, glancing at her sweater. He puts his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and says, “You may want to get a jacket if we’re going to go for a ride.”

Hawke glances down at herself, then back at him and nods. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods and turns back to his bike, grabbing his helmet from the handle he had left it on. Hawke turns back to her dorm and heads back to her room – practically at a run. She grabs her own leather jacket (red, to match her shoes) and goes back downstairs. When she walks back outside, Fenris has produced a second helmet from somewhere in the bike and holds it out to her. Hawke takes it and he helps her put it on, then puts on his own. He climbs onto the bike, then glances at her.

Hawke swallows. She has never in her life been on the back of a motorcycle, and if her mother found out, she would probably kill her. She pushes the fear aside, though, and climbs on the bike behind him – then hesitates. Does she just put her hands on his shoulders? Wrap her arms around him? How close should she sit?

Fenris senses her hesitation and turns his head so she can see his smile. “Just put your arms around me,” he says. “Sit close so that the balance of the bike isn’t off.”

Hawke obeys, moving closer so that her chest pressed against his back. She wraps her arms loosely around his waist and, for the first time, feels how muscular his body is. His entire abdomen is tight with muscle, and Hawke has to resist the urge to run her hands up his chest.

Fenris turn his head to look forward and starts his bike. He revs it, once, then turns back to Hawke. “Ready?”

Hawke nods. “Ready.”

Hawke was not ready.

As soon as the bike moves forward, she panics and lets out a little scream, wrapping her arms more tightly around his waist. She hears him laugh, but neither of them say anything as he moves the bike through the parking lot and out into the Kirkwall traffic.

Once they’re on the road, he accelerates slowly, easing into the bikes speed. Hawke realizes she’s still clinging, vice-like, to his waist, but she doesn’t care. The feel of the bike is unfamiliar, and she can’t fight the feeling that she’s about to fall off at a moment’s notice.

When they reach a relatively straight piece of road, Fenris takes one of his hands from the handles and places it on one of Hawke’s hands for a moment. There’s something in his touch that speaks to Hawke.

_Trust me,_ it says.

She hesitates, but decides she does trust Fenris to get her where they’re going safely and she feels her grip relax a bit. Fenris runs his thumb across the back of her hand reassuringly, then puts his hand back on the handle of the bike. The anxiety that Hawke had been feeling eases and, curious now, she relaxes her grip more to lift her head from his shoulders and look around.

The city passes by them in a blur, almost impossible for Hawke to see. She recognizes where they are – they’re heading into town, towards the school. She feels Fenris accelerate a little more and she smiles, completely confident that Fenris would do nothing to put her in harm’s way (not that she thought he would in the first place, but this was her first motorcycle ride and she honestly had no idea what to expect).

When they pass the school, the lights of the city dim around them. They were in a less-populated area now, so there were only a few street lights on every block, rather than one every ten feet. Hawke smiles and leans forward, letting her head rest between his shoulder blades. She moves her hand, placing her palm gently against his body, and lets her thumb trace small circles around his stomach, just below his ribcage.  She feels him tense a moment, but relax after she starts tracing circles. She hears him hum gently at her touch, causing her to smile more.

“We’re almost there,” she hears him say.

She picks up her head and looks around again. She knows they’re still in Hightown because she’d been here before – but it had only been once when Merrill wanted to drag her to an herbalist’s store at the very edge of town.

True to his word, Fenris starts slowing down a second later. He turns into a parking lot and Hawke glances at the sign. The name is very Italian, which excites Hawke. Italian food was one of her favorites.

Fenris parks and turns off the bike. He takes of his helmet and Hawke follows suit, then hands hers to him. They both get off the bike and, after Fenris puts the helmets away, head toward the restaurant. Before they walk in the door, Fenris glances at Hawke and stops her momentarily to brush some of her hair back into place. The movement is so sudden, so natural, that Hawke feels herself smile without thinking. Fenris raises an eyebrow and asks, “What?”

“Nothing,” Hawke says with a shake of her head, then holds a hand up to nod at his hair (which was a mess again). She asks, “May I?”

Fenris nods and leans his head forward. Hawke runs her fingertips through his hair and has to briefly admire how soft it is. No matter what she ever tried, Hawke could never get her hair to be silky. It was always dry, or damaged from the heat of the blow dryer. She sighs outwardly and says, “I’m so jealous of your hair.”

Fenris laughs and leans back up, brushing a hand through his hair and immediately undoing the work Hawke had just done on it. “What makes you say that?”

Hawke groans as his hair immediately falls back into place, anyway. “Because you just messed up the work I did and it doesn’t even matter! It just fell right back into place.”

Fenris rolls his eyes and walks forward, pushing the door open and holding it for Hawke. “Let’s just go eat. I’m starving.”

Hawke sticks her tongue out at Fenris, causing him to chuckle again, and heads inside.

Being a Sunday evening, the place really isn’t that busy. They get a seat right away, in a booth near the back. The host hands them two menus and a drink menu, then takes his leave. Hawke glances down at the menu, decides to stick with her usual at _any_ Italian restaurant (spaghetti with marinara), then takes a look at the drink menu. Most of their drinks are wine, besides a few beers, and Hawke feels herself grow nervous. As long as she’d been drinking, she’d never really studied wine or tasted many. The ones she had had, she liked, but she couldn’t remember the names of them now. She moves her eyes to Fenris, who’s eyes are still scanning the food menu, and asks, “What are you getting to drink?”

Fenris shrugs and sets his menu down, turning his attention to her. “I was thinking the merlot, but I don’t know if I want quite that dry tonight. I might settle for the pinot noir.”

Hawke’s anxiety spikes more. She has no idea what he’s talking about. “Yeah, right.. So.. What does that mean, exactly?”

“Which part?”

“I don’t know,” Hawke says, then swallows. “All of it?”

Fenris grins and shakes his head. “You don’t drink wine at all, do you?”

Hawke shakes her head and deflates, suddenly feeling dumb. Fenris reaches across the table and takes the drink menu, scanning his eyes over it quickly. Without looking up, he asks, “So what do you tend to prefer? Sweet things, or bitter?”

Hawke shrugs. “I mean, I go back and forth, but I normally take my coffee black.”

Fenris nods and she watches as his eyebrows scrunch together in concentration. Hawke has to resist giggling over how cute he looks. He says, “Do you prefer subtle tastes, or stronger?”

Hawke thinks a moment before answering. “Probably more subtle. I tend to stay away from bold foods.”

Fenris nods again, accepting her answer. His eyebrows start to unfurrow a bit. “And what are you getting to eat?”

“Spaghetti, with marinara.”

Fenris smiles and sets the drink menu down. “I know what to get you. Trust me?”

Hawke finds herself smiling back. “Absolutely.”

Something in Fenris’s gaze shifts, though Hawke has a hard time placing what. She wants to ask but, before she can, the waiter walks up. Fenris orders their drinks, then they both order their meals. When the waiter walks away, Fenris turns back to Hawke and says, “Thank you for coming out with me tonight. I was… worried about you last night.”

“Yeah, Anders said you thought he drugged me,” Hawke teases.

“I mean, am I the only one who thought it odd how quickly you went from being sober to drunk? It was a matter of seconds, Hawke,” Fenris says, his tone slightly pained.

Hawke frowns and shakes her head. “No, you’re not the only one. Anyone who doesn’t know me too well would have probably thought the same. I forgot to tell you beforehand that when I drink hard alcohol, I tend to forget how many drinks I’ve had, and none of them hit me until later. I’m sorry for having worried you.”

Fenris shakes his head. “No apology necessary. Like I said, I was only worried. I’m sorry for accusing your friend of drugging you.”

Hawke feels her eyes widen a moment in shock. In all honesty, she hadn’t expected anyone to apologize – especially not for something that was a completely valid response. When she gets over her initial shock, Hawke smiles and says, “Thank you, Fenris. That means a lot. Though, I do understand why you did it. Hard liquor is always a scary thing with me.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” Fenris teases.

The waiter comes out with their drinks, then. Both glasses are filled with a red wine, though the one in Hawke’s is slightly lighter than Fenris’s. The waiter asks if they need anything else while they wait and, when they both decline, takes his leave.

Fenris takes a sip of his wine and nods once in approval. He glances at Hawke’s glass, then back at her, his eyes suddenly nervous. He says, “Try it. Let me know if you like it or not. If you don’t, I’ll try a new one.”

Hawke picks up her glass and raises it slowly to her lips. When she touches the edge of the glass to her mouth, she inhales through her nose, trying to get a feel for the taste. There’s a mixture of smells and, at first, it confuses Hawke’s senses. It smells bitter at first, but at the end of her inhale, she picks up on hints of sweetness. She doesn’t know how to discern anything other than that, though, so she raises her glass and takes a tentative sip.

Just like she had smelled, the wine starts off bitter, but finishes sweet. She’s pleasantly surprised, and takes another sip before setting the glass down. “It’s good.”

Fenris’s eyes brighten, and a smile spreads across his face. “Good.”

“What is it?” Hawke asks, so that she knew for next time they went out.

“It’s a red blend. This particular one is called _Ménage à Trois Silk._ It’s actually mostly made of what I’m drinking, plus some malbec and a tiny bit of petite sirah.”

“How do you know so much about wine?” Hawke asks, genuinely curious.

Fenris’s smile falters for a moment, but it returns as he answers, “My caregiver required me to know. He held parties often – some with esteemed guests – and he didn’t want to be made a fool in front of them.”

Hawke wants to ask about this _caregiver_ but decides it best not to press right now. She wants to keep the evening a happy one. “But you like it though, right? Wine?”

Fenris shrugs and takes a sip of his. “I’ve acquired a taste for it, yes. It’s definitely preferable to beer. Beer is usually my last go-to. It’s either wine or hard liquor for me.”

Hawke laughs. “Well, you’ve seen me on hard liquor. Now you know why I mostly drink beer.”

Fenris rolls his eyes. “Yes. Please, let’s avoid any hard liquor for the foreseeable future. I don’t want to have to worry if you’re going to make it through the night again any time soon.”

“Noted,” Hawke agrees.

The rest of their meal goes smoothly. The food is delicious, and they decide to get another glass of wine while they eat. When they’re finished, Hawke feels warm, but nowhere near tipsy. Fenris pays when the waiter brings the bill, and they take their leave.

Once outside, Fenris turns to Hawke and asks, “Did you have any other plans this evening?”

When Hawke shakes her head, he continues, “Can I take you one more place?”

“As long as it’s not food,” Hawke teases. “I’m stuffed. I would love to go somewhere else, though.”

_Anything, if it means more time with you._

Fenris smiles and hands her the helmet she had used on the way here. He helps her put it on again, then puts his on and gets on the bike.  She gets on behind him and, as soon as her arms are around his waist, he takes off. Hawke immediately feels butterflies fill her stomach, but she at least doesn’t scream this time.

When they turn into the school’s parking lot a few minutes later, Hawke raises an eyebrow curiously. He parks in the student parking lot and takes off his helmet. Hawke takes hers off, as well, and asks, “The school?”

Fenris waits for her to get off the bike, then smiles at her. “You’ll see.”

He gets off and takes her helmet from her, putting them both away again. He starts walking in the direction of the music hall and Hawke follows a few steps behind. When they go inside, the lights are dimmed enough that Hawke can see, but barely. The place is eerie this late on a Sunday, with no one in sight. She crosses her arms over her chest and fights the urge to just turn back around.

When they reach the music rooms, Fenris takes a key out of his pocket and unlocks the furthest one on the right. He steps inside and flips the light switch. The room is illuminated in a bright, fluorescent light that hurts Hawke’s eyes after being in dim light for so long. She squints against the light and follows Fenris into the room, closing the door behind them.

The room, like every other room in this hallway, is a soundproof room meant to help the kids in music comp compose their own music. Each one had a different instrument in it that was free to use, but students were always welcome to bring their own. The one they’re in now has a piano situated in the center of the room, which Fenris makes his way to now. He moves around the massive instrument easily and takes a seat on the bench in front of the keys. He turns to Hawke and pats the open area of the bench next to him. Hawke smiles and goes to sit next to him.

When she sits, she turns her attention to Fenris. “So? What are we doing here? Have homework you need to catch up on?”

Fenris shakes his head and swallows, suddenly appearing nervous. He glances at Hawke, then back at the keys of the piano before saying, “There’s… a song, that I’ve been practicing. When I met you, and you told me your name… it’s the first song that came to mind. I’ve been practicing it ever since so I could play it for you.”

Hawke feels her heart flutter and she smiles. She places a gentle hand on his knee and says, “I would love to hear it.”

Fenris closes his eyes and nods. Hawke takes her hand away from his knee and waits.

Slowly, Fenris lifts his hands and hovers his fingers above the keys. The room is tight with Hawke’s anticipation. She had never in her life been told that she reminded someone of someone or something. The feeling made her happy beyond belief – and Fenris hadn’t even started playing the song yet. It didn’t matter what it was, honestly. What he was about to play for her made him think of _her._ And he had been practicing it. For weeks.

Hawke tries very hard not to think about what that might mean.

Fenris takes a deep breath and begins to play.

The notes are gentle, soft, and Hawke feels the tension immediately leave the room. She feels her entire body relax into the melody. Something about the song itself _moves_ Hawke in a way she could have never imagined something moving her. Sure, music had made her feel before, but this was something new entirely. The music was _moving_ her – directing her thoughts to its melody, slowing her heart to its beat.

Hawke watches Fenris’s fingers move across the keys, and she’s suddenly consumed with the realization that _Fenris_ is the one playing the song. _He_ is the one making her feel this way – directing her thoughts and feelings in a way so powerful that Hawke is overwhelmed with his presence.

She closes her eyes, melting into the song’s melody. Hawke had been intimate with people before but this was something new entirely – it surpassed intimacy. Fenris is reaching a part of her that no one has ever touched before and, while the thought terrifies her, she can’t help the joy it fills her with, either. How lucky is she, to have met a man so absolutely incredible that he could open her mind to _this._

Before Hawke knows it, Fenris plays the final chords to the song. It ends as softly as it had begun and Hawke feels..disappointed, almost, that it’s over. She opens her eyes, somewhat reluctantly, and lets them drift over to Fenris. He’s watching her, eyes wide, filled with a wonder that Hawke somehow understands. She goes to talk, but finds that words won’t come.

She’s speechless.

“That was –“ she tries, then cuts off. She tries to think of a word for what she’s feeling, but everything she thinks comes nowhere near how she’s feeling. “It was –“

Suddenly, Fenris leans forward, and presses his lips against Hawke’s. The kiss is gentle, tentative, and he’s pulling away before Hawke even gathers what’s happening. Before he’s too far, Hawke leans into him and presses her lips against his, finding that she doesn’t need words to describe how she feels. This is it, right here. The way their lips fit together, the way his body feels against hers when she wraps her arms around his neck and moves closer. He breaks the kiss to turn his body towards hers and wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her onto his lap. She turns in his lap so that she straddles him, and presses her lips to his again.

Their kiss starts off gentle and slow, but when Hawke moves to adjust herself and unintentionally grinds herself against him, she lets out a soft moan. His reaction is immediate. His arms tighten around her waist and his kiss becomes heated. He parts his lips, and his breath against her lips sends Hawke’s mind into a frenzy. She parts her lips and lets her tongue slide slowly across his bottom lip. She hears him give a soft whine and she smiles into their kiss. She moves against him again and he groans, sliding his hands up her back and winding his hands into her hair.

Hawke feels heat begin to gather in her body. She wants him. They had just connected on a level that Hawke had never experienced, and she still wanted more. He’s beautiful, and charming, and intelligent and _maker_ she couldn’t concentrate on anything with his mouth on hers like this.

“I want you,” she whispers against his lips.

Fenris slows the kiss, then pulls away entirely. The expression on his face is odd, and Hawke feels her heart plummet. _He wouldn’t even kiss you the other night, you idiot, do you really think –_

“Are you sure?” he asks, softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His green eyes study her face carefully.

Hawke takes an actual moment to think. She had gotten caught up in the moment, but did she really want this? She thinks of how they’ve only known each other a few weeks, how she _really_ doesn’t know much about the man she’s trying to invite into her body.

But then she thinks of how natural everything has seemed with him already. They’ve opened up to each other in ways neither of them expected. He makes her feel safe, and wanted. Hawke felt more intimate moments before with him in a way she’d never experienced. She may have been caught up in the moment, but there was no denying that _yes, I want you._

Finally, she nods her head, and Fenris closes his eyes.

“I am… relieved,” Fenris says, and opens his eyes again. When he does, he moves his eyes to hers and smiles, though his eyes are sad. “I have never allowed anyone too close. I’ve found it easier not to, with the life that I’ve had. But you.. are unlike any person I have ever met, Hawke. With you, it might be different.”

Hawke moves her hand from the back of his neck to his cheek. She traces her thumb lightly over the skin there and leans in to give him a gentle kiss. Against his lips, she whispers, “Maybe we could find out?”

Fenris closes his eyes again and sighs, resting his forehead against hers. He lets his hands fall back down her back until they’re both resting gently on her sides. He kisses her, once, and Hawke feels the difference immediately. The kiss no longer holds a burning desire, but instead it holds a lingering promise. “Perhaps another time, Hawke. A music room isn’t really an ideal place to.. start.”

Though Hawke expects to feel disappointed, she isn’t. She agrees with him, really. If this was turning into something, she didn’t want their first time to be in one of the school’s music rooms.

With one last kiss to Fenris’s lips, Hawke moves to get out of his lap. He lets her and when she’s finally standing, he follows suit. He nods toward the door and says, “Security will be coming by any minute to check on the room. We should leave before then.”

Hawke nods, and follows him out of the music room. Before leaving, he turns off the lights and locks the door, sticking his key back in his pocket. Hawke watches, then asks, “How did you get a key to the music room anyway?”

Fenris chuckles and starts walking toward the building’s exit. “I asked my professor this morning. Apparently I’m already on his good side after only a few weeks, so he let me borrow it.”

Hawke smiles and nudges Fenris’s shoulder with her own. “His isn’t the only good side you’ve gotten on.”

“Is that right?” he teases.

Hawke nods and slips her arm into his. As they walk out into the cool night, she leans her head against his shoulder.  They walk like that for a while before he says, “Your dorm isn’t far, and it’ll be too cold now on the bike. Are you alright if I just walk you home?”

Hawke looks up at him and smiles, nodding as she answers, “That’s alright with me.”

They’re both quiet on their way back to Hawke’s dorm, each lost in their own thoughts. Hawke wonders, briefly, if maybe they are moving too fast. They’ve only known each other a month and they haven’t really had much opportunity to hang out alone outside of tonight. But, on the other hand, there was definitely something between them that Hawke didn’t think either one of them could ignore for long. Obviously, they were both into each other, but did that really mean anything? Was what they were doing only for fun? Or did both of them want it to lead to something else? Hawke knows that she wouldn’t mind it heading in a more serious direction eventually, but again, how can she say that after only knowing him for a month?

Fenris chuckles next to her, bringing her attention to him. She raises an eyebrow and asks, “What’s funny?”

“You’re just..easy to read, is all,” Fenris observes. “Sort of. I can always tell how you’re feeling – like right now, you’re working really hard to figure something out. I just can’t tell what.”

Hawke sighs and leans her head back on his shoulder. They were almost to her dorms. “It doesn’t matter. It’ll all sort itself out, eventually.”

“Mmm..” Fenris responds, letting them fall back into silence.

When they reach her dorm room, Hawke slides her arm out of his and starts moving to head inside. Before she can even turn around to say goodnight, Fenris grabs her hand and leads her back to him. Hawke feels her heart flutter as he leans down and places a gentle kiss on her forehead. He lingers there a moment, his breath warm on the top of her head, then he pulls back and moves his eyes to hers. There’s a smile on his face, and Hawke finds it easy to smile back.

“Goodnight, Hawke,” Fenris says.

“Goodnight, Fenris,” Hawke whispers. It takes a monumental effort for her to release his hand and turn away from him.

When she does, though, she does so without looking back. She heads inside, up to her room. Petrice still isn’t there, which Hawke finds a huge relief. She gets ready for bed, taking off her makeup and changing into her pajamas. When she lays in bed, she grabs her phone and plugs it in to charge. The screen lights up and she sees she has a message.

**From: Fenris, 9:32 PM  
** _Just getting back to my own dorm. I couldn’t get you out of my mind.. Not that I’m complaining. I like thinking of you._

**From: Fenris, 9:36 PM  
** _Anyway, it’s early, but I’m going to get ready for bed. Good night, Hawke. Counting down the time until I see you again._

Hawke can’t help the ridiculous smile on her face. No matter how hard she tries to get rid of it, it’s stuck there. She doesn’t mind, though.

**To: Fenris, 9:38 PM  
** _I’m turning in for the night, as well. I enjoyed tonight. Thank you for taking me out. Good night, Fenris. Sweet dreams._

After she sends the message, she sets her phone on her nightstand. It doesn’t take her long to fall asleep and, when she does, she dreams of tattooed hands on a keyboard, playing a soft melody in tune to her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now you've all seen how damn cheesy I can be :D
> 
> I loved, loved, LOVED writing this chapter. I think this is the first time I've actually tried walking away from writing something (because I had to go to bed) but couldn't, because I just needed to finish it. It's now almost midnight, and I have to be awake in four hours for work. I don't even care, though, because this was worth it.
> 
> Now for actual notes on the story!
> 
> I can't get over the idea of Fenris having a motorcycle, and always wearing a leather jacket to go riding in. I just..idk. It's probably my favorite fanfic trope with him and I honestly just love it so much. Also, like Hawke, I've only been on a motorcycle once. I was terrified almost the entire time because it felt a lot like a jet ski to me? lol. And there was one time I fell off a jet ski when I was a kid and almost drowned soooo..yeah. Didn't like that experience at all and I'll probably never set foot on a motorcycle again.
> 
> The restaurant they went to was based on an Italian restaurant here called Bela Milano. I never go there because it's overpriced, but I think Fenris would want to pay for overpriced spaghetti if it was Hawke's overpriced spaghetti.
> 
> The wine Hawke drinks is my absolute favorite wine. It's my personal go-to if I'm drinking wine, and I could drink it all day, every day. Pinot Noir is my second favorite, but sometimes it can be a bit TOO dry for me.
> 
> Finally, YES I KNOW CLAIR DE LUNE IS USED IN TWILIGHT AND I FUCKING HATE THAT BECAUSE THERE ARE NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I LOVE THE FREAKING SONG. Every time I listen to it, I'm just transported to my happy place. The melody works soooo well to just...help me calm down after a stressful day at work, or get creative when I need to write. I have listened to this song growing up and used it, time and time again, to help me heal a broken heart, or calm an anxiety-ridden mind. I wrote Hawke's experience with the song much like how my experience is, every time. Clair de Lune is the music of my soul and, if someone played it for me, they would immediately mean the world to me.
> 
> Anyway, I really loved this chapter, and if you did too, you should let me know in the comments <3 leave kudos if you're too shy! I live off your guys's feedback.
> 
> Also, if you're not already, you should follow me on tumblr. http://lunaahawke.tumblr.com
> 
> You all already know because I've said it a million times, but song used in the title is "Clair de Lune" by Debussy and can be found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlvUepMa31o).


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